Ways to Skin a Cat
by EvenSong
Summary: I was not a good daughter. At least, according to my father, I wasn’t. I wasn’t a good daughter simply because I wasn’t a son. It wasn’t my mother’s fault, of course, that I wasn’t a boy, it was my fault. I had been the one who refused to be a boy.
1. The Exposition

**Warnings:** You might fall off a cliff at the end…

**Ways to Skin a Cat**

**Chapter One**: The Exposition

I was not a good daughter. At least, according to my father, I wasn't. I wasn't a good daughter simply because I wasn't a son. It wasn't my mother's fault, of course, that I wasn't a boy, it was my fault. I, after all, had been the one to so belligerently refuse to be a boy.

That is a perfectly logical conclusion, if you were my father. To the rest of the family, which consisted of only my mother and me, we found him to be slightly off center when it came to particulars like that. However, we didn't let it bother us too much in my early years.

When I was younger, my mother gave me all the love that my father refused to. She read to me before bedtime and played with me beforehand, helping me to enact my fantasies in fashion that most children would envy greatly. We would turn entire rooms into dark, slime covered palaces where the Dark Lord lived or bright, sunny fields where unicorns romped alongside fairies and elves.

We were very imaginative, my mother and I.

This couldn't go on forever, since by the age of seven I was far too sophisticated to play such silly games as make believe. I wouldn't be caught dead in a room where the word 'unicorn' was mentioned, and if anyone such much as breathed a word of the fey creatures, my budding sensibilities were horrified beyond belief.

Once I turned ten, my mother had taken to traveling around the countryside that surrounded our manor often, usually staying out for weeks at a time. She never took me, no matter how much I begged to go. She said that her trips were far too dangerous for a little girl like me. I naturally thought myself to be quite the mature adult and cried harder when she left me just the same.

The times that my mother was away were the loneliest times of my life. I had no one who would talk to me without calling me 'miss' or 'young Sera'. There was no one who would call me 'Kelry' instead of the longer, more formal version of my name 'Kelryian'. The only person, in the loosest sense of the word, which I had to talk to, was the Cat. We had many cats at our manor, mostly around the stables, but there was only one Cat.

The Cat was the only gift that I ever got from my father, since he liked to pretend that I didn't exist. I had gotten the nasty black tom on my first birthday, and he had stayed with me ever since. I think that then, my father still had hope that I would turn out to be a boy when I was older. After all, many children look androgynous at such a young age. Needless to say, he was rather put out when I remained female.

The Cat did have a name, but everyone except I knew him by 'that Cat!', so I referred to him as that so as to avoid as much confusion as possible. When we were alone, I could talk to Nero for hours on end about everything and nothing. I told him all of my troubles and his listened with as much disinterest as he could muster. Usually he fell asleep on a window ledge by the third sentence I spoke, but I didn't mind. At least _he_ never interrupted me.

As I grew older, Mother's trips became longer and more frequent, and I saw her less and less. I was handed over to a governess who was determined to make me into a lady by the age of fifteen. My governess, a plump matron named Ulga, whom I promptly nicknamed 'Ugly', was basically a kind woman. She never yelled at me unless I was being truly horrible; mostly, she just yelled at Nero. He was the one that got in the most trouble.

At the age of thirteen, I knew how to sew the tiniest of stitches and ride gentle palfreys sidesaddle across rolling hills. By fourteen I could make a fine assortment of delicate pastries, tarts and other delights, as well as reply to any question posed of me without actually answering. When I turned fifteen, I was deemed a lady as fine (if not finer) than any other in the land by dear Ulga, and presented to my father for his judgment.

If I had been hoping that he would suddenly sweep me into his arms and the years of silence would be washed away in one fell swoop, I would have been mistaken. However, I had been expecting no such thing, as Mother was there in all her effusive glory to make up for his apathetic rejection.

"Oh darling," she cried, falling upon me with a joyous hug, "You've grown so!" She had been away for the past year to oversee something or other that I didn't care about; all I had cared about was that she wasn't there.

"I have," I agreed, hugging her tightly in response.

"Karise," My father ordered, "Stop that."

My mother pulled away reluctantly, giving him a venomous look that she thought I couldn't see. It was very unladylike, and very unlike my sweet mother. "Aloysius, really!" She huffed, but sat beside him.

"Daughter," my father began, spitting the word out distastefully, "You are now a…lady."

I suddenly suspected that he didn't remember my name.

"I am, father, and I am yours to command."

"Good, good." Ser Aloysius shifted uneasily in his chair. "Then you shall be wed!"

Mother gasped, clapping her hands over the horrified 'o' of her mouth. "Aloysius! You _can't_! Kelry is too young for such a thing!"

"Hush, Karise. You do not know what you say." My father stood before me, a smile coming to his lips. "Yes, Kelry, you will be wed."

I was tempted to raise my hand to question him, but restrained myself with no mean effort. However, my struggled must have been evident to him, for he sighed and asked me, "Yes?"

"You said I will be wed-"

He interrupted me swiftly, grey eyes flashing with sharp warning. "You said that you were mine to command, and command I have! You shall not stray from the path I have set you on."

"Yes, but _who_, precisely, am I to wed?"

My query seemed to create something of a quandary for him, as he didn't say anything for a long period of time.

Mother smiled sweetly, mockingly, "Yes, Aloysius, who will my dear Kelryian wed?"

Snarling, her turned on my mother and declared, "The first man who comes for her, that's who, be he old, young, infirm or aught else- the first one who comes for her!"

I gaped; this was far worse that I had expected. That first man could be absolutely anyone! I had anticipated as soon as the decree left his mouth about my marrying that he had chosen someone who could only add to his assets. This rash decision on my father's part could lead to ruin…for the both of us.

"Um…I don't think that that's qu-."

I was cut off with an angry slash of a hand. "You don't think, Kelryian. You were not bred to think, you were bred to breed again."

"Aloysius! That's no way to talk to your daughter!" Mother came quickly to my defense. "Honestly, you should learn manners. If I had known you were this much of a brute when we were betrothed, I would have run away. Now, control yourse-"

This time it was she who was cut off with his hand; my father swung hard and hit her on the cheek with the flat of his hand, sending a reverberating _slap_ throughout the room.

She gasped, shaken. "How dare you!"

He rounded on Mother, his brow furrowed in an angry arch. "You've gone to far, Karise. You are the one who needs self-control, not I." Father's words came out low, sibilant, and very threatening. "Do not contest my authority again, or I will rescind the freedoms I have granted you."

"What freedoms?" Mother glared black, matching fire for fire. "You send me away to be rid of me, not out of the generosity of your heart!"

"Speak no more, wretched woman. Kelryian!" I snapped to attention, hastily refocusing on my father.

"Yes, Father?" I was poised, perfect. I was such a lady.

"Get out!" He barked.

I quailed at his harsh words. "Yes, sir." I curtseyed once and then escaped to a safer room. Even once I was in the study, half a house away from my parents, I could still hear their argument.

Sadly, I nestled into the chair and pulled out my embroidery. As long as I was waiting in half-exile, I might as well do something productive.

The needle dipped in and out of the fabric, drawing the green thread for the stems of delicate roses into place with each stitch. Carefully, ever carefully, a leaf unfurled from beneath my fingers. Slowly, ever slowly, I grew bored with the tedious task of tiny stitches, and my head sank down onto the desk, where soon I was fast asleep.

"Up! Get up you lazy girl! Up!" My nurse's rough command startled me awake.

"What?" I straightened my stiff back and groaned in pain. "What do you want?"

Ulga chuckled at me, her amusement at my disheveled appearance tracing tiny lines around her eyes. "Milord Aloysius requests your presence in the parlor as soon as you are fit to be seen."

Fairly sure that my father had not been nearly so polite, I acquiesced relatively willingly. "Ulga?"

"Yes, chickpea?" The rolls of her second chin jiggled slightly when she spoke and I made a face.

"Why does Father want me?"

She smiled down at me, patting my head familiarly. "I haven't a clue, m'dear, not a clue."

"Oh." I paused, stretched again, and then rose. "Shall we go make me look presentable?"

"Yes, Kelry. Right away, I should think." Ulga smiled sadly at me, her usual cheerful disposition replaced by nostalgia. "Let's go make you into a lady." She grabbed my hand, hauling me out of my chair easily.

"Yes, let's," I agreed with her.

As soon as I was looking neat and tidy again, Ulga sent me out the door and to the parlor with two pinched to my cheeks, to give them color. I glared at her, but sauntered off without retaliating.

I suppose that she was entitled to some sort of motherly endearment like that; she had practically raised me after all. But even still…my grumbling continued until I reached the parlor.

"Smile," I whispered to myself. "Be nice." _Ladylike_. "Ready? Go." I slipped through the heavy doors, floating gracefully across the floor with a demur smile on my lips. "Father, you called for me?"

"Yes, I did. Get over here."

So much for pleasantries.

"Yes, sir," I murmured, watching the toes of my shoes ruffle the hem of my gown. As soon as I reached his side, I dared to look up. A startled "Oh," escaped from my lips as I saw the guest who was seated before my father.

He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. Considering that I hadn't seen many men, for true ladies were not to be exposed to the horrid outdoors, it wasn't much to say that he was the most handsome. However, by anyone's standards, his finely sculpted features and shock of dark hair were not merely pleasant to look at but highly attractive.

"Sera Kelryian Relandrant, what a pleasure to meet you." The stranger stood, bowed and then carried my unresisting fingertips to his lips for the briefest of kisses.

I smiled vapidly for several awkward seconds, and then, after a pinch from my father, launched into the role of a perfect young lady. "It's very nice to meet you as well, good sir. Would you care for refreshments? Or have you already partaken of the hospitality that we most willingly provide for you?" I paused to take a breath, analyzing him even as I admired him. "My father and I are very glad to have you here with us today; we greatly appreciate your visit." He was wealthy; the cut of his clothing was quite fashionable and the fabric was good. This man was also well bred; his every move reflected the upbringing that he had no doubt received.

"Hush, girl. The servants have already been through. No need to bore our dear Prince again with such trivialities," Father huffed. "Really, I thought you knew better."

I was tempted to make a face, but hastily decided against it, since neither my father nor Prince Daryan val Tännon would appreciate it. "I'm sorry. I shan't do it again."

"Good," he grumbled.

Prince Daryan cleared his throat to regain our attention. "Aloysius, you said that you had called me here to discuss something very important…?"

I gasped in sudden realization. Father was planning to betroth me to Prince Daryan! I was to be Queen!

Father frowned at me, but then turned to Daryan and began to speak in his gravelly voice. "Yes. It's very important. As you know, I have no sons."

"I'm sorry," the Prince interrupted, a bored tone edging his voice. "But what do your ineptitudes have to do with me?"

"Patience," Father counseled, "All will be revealed shortly. Now, where I was; with no sons, there is no one who may inherit my lands and properties under the current law. I do not object to this law, in fact- I think it is an excellent institution." At a slight cough from Daryan, he rushed on. "I would like to bequeath my lands to the Crown and its beneficiaries upon my death."

My jaw slowly dropped open. I couldn't fathom that my father had just disinherited his own child!

"Why, precisely, do you want to do this?" Daryan's expressive lips were pursed in puzzlement. "You have a daughter, and her husband could inherit your lands when you marry."

"Her? She's likely to wed none at all or the worst of the lot. I can't have such fine and expensive things falling into the hands of a drunkard or a beggar, could I?" A small smile crept to Father's lips as he saw my dismay at his insults. "Honestly, my Prince, I wish to declare here and now, in front of a witness and the Crown, that the Crown is now the sole heir to my private fortune."

"Father, I must have heard you incorrectly. Please, repeat for me what you just said so that I may understand in full." I tried my hardest to phrase my demand politely, but I visibly struggled.

"You can't understand, silly girl. There will be a small stipend for you, of course. But an incompetent female like yourself won't put a single finger on my fortune." My father smiled ruthlessly as I cast about wildly for the proper words. "It just isn't right for you to have so much. You couldn't possibly manage it."

"But _why_?" I whined pitifully, acting like the child I still was.

"Must I explain it to you again?"

"Excuse me," a soft, cool voice broke into our heated conversation. "May I explain it to the young Sera?"

"If you wish." Father nodded and sat back in his chair.

I wished I had a chair; if I had a seat, I wouldn't be so afraid of fainting from pure shock.

"Sera Kelryian, please, know that this is for the good of the Crown." Daryan rose from his chair and took my arm. "If you will give us just a moment alone, Aloysius, just a minute or two. I believe that your presence upsets her."

Father looked outraged, but did as he was told, exiting the parlor promptly.

"Now, Kelryian, you must understand some things." His hand on my arm made my face flush; I had never been this close to a man before, and it was quite unsettling. "Your Father follows an old-fashioned system of values. He has not been taken in by the modern ideals of equality that are so prevalent in our society."

"What does this have to do with my disinheritance?" I demanded sullenly.

"Patience, like Aloysius says." Prince Daryan pulled a wry face. "The nerve! To give advice to a Prince, why, it's preposterous!" Then, suddenly, he smiled. "You want to know what I think, Kelryian?"

"Yes, of course I do, oh Prince." I flashed a dark look up at him from under my lashes. He still had possession of my arm, and I tried ineffectually to pull away.

"I believe in my own ideas," He whispered in my ear, bending down so that he was on level with me.

I turned hesitantly around, so that I was face to face with him, something I had been told never to do. Ever. "And what are those?" I found myself whispering in response.

"I believe that pleasure is the true treasure, a sport I seek at every turn, making it my own if I cannot find it." His pale eyes never wavered from mine for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

He laughed softly. "You will understand in time, little Sera."

"But I want to understand _now_!" I cried plaintively. It was the closest I had come to a temper tantrum in years.

"You aren't old enough. You may be a lady, but it is in name only." Prince Daryan smiled at me, and my heart stopped for a moment in time.

It was that moment that was my undoing.

**Author's Note:** So, I'm back again, and I've brought another lovely girl with me! I hope you've enjoyed her. Would you like me to continue this, or should I just quit now?

Your opinions are very much appreciated, as always!

Thanks!

Love, EvenSong


	2. The Next Part

**Ways to Skin a Cat**

**Warnings:** Obsession might just be a bad thing…maybe.

**Chapter Two**: The Next Part

I went to sleep that night dreaming of Daryan. I had determined, in a single second of rash rationale, that he was my one and only true love, and that I would love no other, ever.

My dreams were filled with soft remembrances of his fingertips on my cheek, his skin brushing so tenderly against mine. My mind wandered the walkways of sleep, repeating the same sequences of his smile, a smile that he had directed at me.

I vowed never to give my heart to another, for it already belonged to the most handsome of princes.

"Daryan," I murmured in my sleep, my lips pressing against the pillow in a most evocative way. "I love you."

This sudden, childish lust for a stranger was completely out of character for me. I had been schooled endless to comport myself with dignity, and to be chary of all emotions save for the ones that I only carefully displayed.

I had never let myself be so ruled by my emotional side before; only rarely had I departed from the calculating character that I had developed over the years. I felt so different— so liberated!

As the morning light spilled across my eyelids, I woke.

"I'm in love!" I whispered joyously to myself, exulting in the infatuation that I had nurtured in the hours after Daryan had left with his entourage. I cared not that my entire future as I knew it was swept away in one fell blow; love for my most noble of princes would surely sustain me!

Of course, logic played no part in my thought process. What did I need that silly thing for?

"Kelryian!"

My head jerked upwards, a wary look replacing the vapid grin. "Yes?"

"Up! Get up you lazy girl!" Ulga crossed the threshold of my chamber in a whirl of skirts and wild gesticulations.

I whined, "But why?" I didn't want to get up! It was warm in my bed, and I knew the floor would be chill.

"You must get ready!"

I sighed. Sometimes Ulga forgot the most important part of her answers to my questions. "Why must I get ready?"

She stopped for a moment, pausing in the midst of throwing open my curtains. "Why, for your father and mother, of course."

My governess could be so very frustrating at times. "Why do they want to see me?"

"Oh, they didn't tell me of course!" She laughed, a great, gut-jiggling laugh. I had to look away. "Why would they tell me? I'm just a servant to them!" Ulga shrugged, looking at me pointedly as if I should have known her feelings.

"Ulga!" I sat up in bed, wrapping the comforter around my legs. "You know you're important to them!" Aside from being utterly calculating and relatively emotionless, I was also an adept at playing the diplomat.

"Silly girl," she snorted, but I saw a smile somewhere in there.

"Precisely," I replied, even though we both knew I wasn't, excepting my recent, secret infatuation.

"Up! Get _up_! How many times do I have to tell you?" Ulga yanked the warm comforter off of me, and I shivered with the sudden breeze that wafted across my bare legs.

"What shall I wear?" I stepped gingerly onto the floor, wishing that I had plush carpets on the floors of my suite as my parents' did.

Her appraising eye swept across my clothes. "A morning gown. Late spring. Something…light. In blue." A kirtle was hauled out of my closet. "This one," Ulga decided with an emphatic nod.

Quickly, I was dressed in the periwinkle frock with white lace trim, my hair done up neatly and trace amounts of cosmetics applied. I snatched a shawl from Ulga's helping hands before composing myself to step out of my door.

"Go! No time to waste!" That was just like Ulga; always in a hurry when a late, dramatic entrance made a longer lasting impression. I tossed a smile over my shoulder and sauntered away.

"You're late," Father greeted my flatly as I entered his study.

"Please forgive me, sir, but you woke me and it takes time to become presentable." I curtseyed delicately before him.

"Kelry, darling, are you feeling well?" My mother peered at me from her lounge chair across the room. "You look flushed."

A rush of euphoria inundated me as I reflected upon the cause for my flush: Daryan. "No, mother, I'm feeling perfectly well. Please, don't trouble yourself on my account."

Looking slightly hurt at my casual disregard of her concern, Mother sat back and grimaced. "If you say so, dear."

"Don't coddle the girl, Karise. She needs to learn to be an adult sometime," My father groused. "Really."

"You just hope she dies, don't you?" My dear lady mother spat so graciously back at him.

I cleared my throat, hoping to break through their marital bickering. It didn't work. "Excuse me…"

"Speak only when you're spoke too, you stupid girl," Father snapped. "I thought that woman we hired to teach you taught you something. Please, act like it."

Mother frowned. "Don't be such a bore, Aloysius. It's not very flattering."

He glared at her, but turned his irritation on me instead. "You, my darling daughter," he sneered, "Are to be married."

My heart soared. "Really?" A sigh escaped my lips as thoughts of Daryan flooded my mind. "That's wonderful!" Certainly, it could be no other; Daryan and I were destined to be together.

"Don't you want to know to whom?" My mother's tone was cautious.

"Don't I already know?" I asked breathily.

Father snorted. "Silly girl. I told you, the first man who asked for your hand would get it. Fortunately for you, he's landed and titled."

_Oh, Daryan_, I sighed mentally. We made such a good couple. _Queen Kelryian_, I could hear it already.

"Of course," I murmured, smiling stupidly. "I know that."

Mother peered at me anxiously, seriously considering the possibility that I was indeed delirious. "Kelry? Are you quite sure that you're feeling well? You don't feel ill at all? No dizziness or nausea?"

I threw my head back, a throaty laugh burbling from between my lips. "Why should I be ill? This is the best day of my life! Oh, Father, you could not have been more kind."

He seemed rather taken aback that I was thanking him, and I suppose that should have tipped me off that everything was not as it seemed, but it didn't. I was too drunk on my own happiness to notice. "I'm glad," he said awkwardly, as if the words didn't fit quite right in his mouth, "That you are so pleased to be married to Ser Gerand al Monteville."

"Oh yes, quite pleased…" I trailed off, my mind going numb with shock. "_Who?"_ I demanded incredulously.

"Ser al Monteville, dear." My mother nodded encouragingly. "You said you knew." After a lengthy pause, she murmured, "Maybe you should sit down, Kelry."

I nodded slowly, still in shock. "Yes, sit. Yes." I struggled desperately to regain my composure. "I…am sorry to act so inappropriately. I should have prepared myself more for the…magnitude of the moment instead of rushing headlong into it like I have so recklessly done." I continued to babble, the meaningless words dripping like poison from between my lips in a dull monotone.

Father frowned. "Such outbursts will not be tolerated in your new estate."

"Yes sir," I replied dully, reviewing what I knew of al Monteville. He was an old man, and I would be his third wife, the first two having both died in childbirth. Al Monteville was rich, and though he could provide me any material thing that I could want, he would not.

I knew he would not because he was one of my father's closest confidantes; they were partners in both business and in principles. Al Monteville, though slightly less extreme than my father, held an irrational grudge against all of the fairer sex. He was a misogynist to the core, and he wouldn't change simply because he was getting a new wife.

As his wife, I mused dismally, I would probably bring out even more chauvinistic actions than he displayed in public.

"Father," I began, speaking softly, "Are you sure that I am worthy of such a great personage as Ser al Monteville?" Though I hated to say the words, my self depreciation was sure to win me some favor in my father's eyes.

He gave me a disdainful look. "Of course you're not worthy. Be grateful, girl, that he even considers you as a candidate for his wife."

My cheeks burned. "Yes sir, I am very grateful." I wanted to bite my tongue; the lies that spewed from between my lips cut me deeper with every word.

Mother's expression was nonexistent. Her eyes were dead, flat, with no shine in them. "Aloysius."

"Karise." I rarely heard Father speak in such a gentle tone to my mother.

"Is this for the best?" Her face was pallid as she stared piteously at him.

He touched her cheek, a moment of tenderness that was quickly contradicted by his words. "Whatever I decide is always for the best. You know nothing."

Mother sighed, drawing herself back to the present and gathering her composure. "Yes. Of course Aloysius. You always make the correct decision." A small smile played about her lips, bringing a bitter sparkle to her eyes. "I don't know if I shall be able to attend the wedding. I might be away."

"On business, of course," Father replied stoically. "Although what business a woman such as yourself would have is something that I don't care to think of."

While my parents talked, I sat in stunned, unresisting silence. My future was being decided and I had absolutely no say in any of it. I was pushed in a certain direction, and all that was left to me was to stumble blindly into whatever came my way after that.

Mournfully, my thoughts turned to Daryan. I would never see him again, I figured. My new husband wouldn't allow me to attend court; not only would becoming a courtier cost too much money, I might learn too much in the company of the progressive, modern thinkers that were there. I mused over my memories of Daryan, the few that I had. The inscrutable expression in his grey eyes as he had spoken alone to me brought tears to my eyes. Here I was, fifteen, and already my heart was broken.

_Please,_ I thought desperately, _Please_ _let there be a way out of this._

**Author's Note: **So, I'm sorry for this not being sooner, but I was abducted by my state's Region Band for a weekend…and prior to that, I was working as hard as I could to keep my chair at Regionals…I had to show those boys that girl tuba players are good, too!

It was fun, and even though I miss it…I'm glad to have my life back again, so I can write and all that fun stuff. :)

_For those used to my review responses here…_well, doesn't like me (or anyone) doing that, so they introduced the review reply thing. That's where my responses are going. If you don't have an account (or don't feel like signing in), and still want a response to me, just leave me your e-mail and I'll respond that way.

Love to all of you!


	3. To Continue

**Warnings:** Angry adolescents are mean creatures. Stay away, they bite.

**Ways to Skin a Cat**

**Chapter 3: **To Continue

That night, I cried myself to sleep. I had let my imagination get the better of me, and now I was sorely disappointed. "Oh, Nero," I sobbed to my feline friend. "No one understands!"

For once, he was not entirely aloof. Purring sporadically, he worked his way into the curve that my stomach made with the sheets.

"I don't love Gerand al Monteville. How do they expect me to marry him?"

Nero began to knead my mattress with his claws.

Distraught, I fell face down in the pillow and started mumbling madly. "They can't! But they have! Oh, what will I do? I can't marry him…I can't. I don't understand…they don't understand…" It went on for quite some time, stopping only when my pillow was wet with tears and I was finally asleep.

Nero stayed with me the entire night, stealing my warmth and purring whenever he thought I needed it.

The next morning came too soon.

"Wake up, my darling!" Ulga charged the room, intent on vanquishing any chance I had left of sleeping. "You've a busy day, dearest."

Blearily, I looked up. "Now? Must I?"

"Yes, you must!" My governess dragged the covers off of me, making me curl into a ball and sending Nero flying across the room in terror. "Much to do, not enough time."

I peered up at her from beneath a fall of hair. "I don't want to. I don't feel good."

"Nonsense." She patted my arm. "Up you get!"

I coughed weakly. "I am sick. I promise."

"Liar." Ulga smacked my exposed rear end unceremoniously. "Out of bed, sleepyhead!"

She was sickeningly cheerful. "I'm sick," I repeated, even as rolled off the mattress.

"Your mother says that she would like to speak with you about your forthcoming marriage. Sera Karise is probably concerned already with how lavish an affair it will be."

I nodded, even though I knew she was wrong. Mother would be away on what Father called 'business'. "Of course, Ulga." My eyes pooled with tears. "What should I wear today?"

"Good question, darling." She rummaged through my closet. "Blue with white, I think. It will prepare you for all white."

I grimaced, feeling tears prick my eyes. "Indeed. Ulga…"

She turned from my clothing, a sad look in her eyes. "Yes, dear-heart?"

"What should I do?"

"What do you mean?" A determinedly blank look filled Ulga's eyes. "What should you wear, do you mean?"

I sniffed. "Yes, I suppose." So Ulga didn't want to talk. I could understand that. Even I was hesitant to talk about it plainly. "The blue will be fine, thank you." I allowed myself to be dressed like a doll, lifting an arm when told to, turning around as ordered…I was as empty as a doll too.

"Child…" Ulga murmured, attempting to say something, but when I looked her way, she shook her head. "Never you mind, dear. I don't quite remember what I was going to say."

I shrugged listlessly. "If you say so."

"Cheer up, my girl." My governess patted my shoulder gently, almost apologetically. "It won't be so bad as you think, Kelry."

"How should you know?" I demanded harshly. "You've never been married to an awful chauvinist, have you? No! You've never been married at all." The cruel words flew from my tongue, carelessly cutting into the woman that had loved me the most. "You wouldn't know any of this, any of what I'm going through! Don't act like you do." I sneered at her, letting all the suppressed disappointment and anger explode violently onto her.

"Come now, Kelry. You don't mean…you can't mean it." Her kind eyes smiled, but only just. "Let's get you dressed."

"I don't want to wear the blue." Ulga seemed to droop as I spoke. "I want something in green, please. With no white. Black, preferably." I knew I was being a horrible person, almost as bad as I accused Gerand or my father of being, but I was past caring. I had set myself on this destructive track, and it seemed impossible to get out of.

I think my mother would have understood it perfectly, though. She had gone through, and still was, the same situation.

"Kelryian," Ulga began softly as I flinched at the sound of my formal name coming from her lips. "Black is like you are going to a funeral. This is the rest of you life, Sera, not your death."

"It might as well be my death you are dressing me for!" I spun around angrily. "It kills me that I'm not wedding the one I love."

Ulga just stared at me, virtually expressionless. "You think you know love?" Though her voice was soft, her words were hard. "You, Kelryian, all of fifteen years old, know nothing of love."

"And you know more, I suppose," I scoffed. "A spinster who makes a living as a governess?"

Her face contorted into a pitiful canvas of wrinkles and papery skin. "I would know more than you, spoiled girl that you are!"

I stared at her, expressionless. "Dress me, now. My mother wishes to see me."

"Yes, Sera." Ulga bowed her head submissively, her thinning hair tumbling about her ears and hiding her face from me. "As you wish."

Every single thing I'd ever learned from Ulga kept me from bursting in to tears right there. I felt as though at the slightest movement, I would fall apart and sob, begging her forgiveness, but my governess had taught me well.

"That will be all," I informed her as soon as the last bow was tied. "You are dismissed."

"Yes, Sera." Ulga disappeared without another word, leaving me very suddenly alone.

"I suppose," I said, turning to Nero, "That I should go visit Mother now, shouldn't I?"

Nero yawned and flattened his ears against his skull.

"I should." I nodded decisively, and set out.

Despite my urgent desire to escape the confines of my room, I did not truly wish to see my mother and discuss my impending wedding. I hated all talk of it, as it had caused me such pain in just two short days, but I knew that I would hear much more of it, weeks of it, even.

"Mother?" I called out when I arrived at her suite.

"Kelryian!" She brushed the tapestry that separated us aside and snatched my wrist. "Come inside, quickly."

I looked askance at her, wondering what the rush was for. "Why did you want to see me?"

"Your wedding, my dear, your wedding!" She threw her arms up in the air. "How could you not have guessed? There's so little time left!"

This was new to me; I had thought that the wedding was still weeks off. "There's at least two months before I'm married, yet. There isn't even an official _date_." I crossed my arms. "And what if I don't want to get married?" The words popped out before I could stop them.

Mother looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time in several years. "Kelryian, you don't seem to understand that it isn't about what _you_ want. It never is." She smiled a little sadly. "I thought you knew that."

"Well if it's not about what I want, then what is it?" I flopped across her divan gracelessly. I was sick of this wedding already.

"Money," she said simply, the lines on her face more prominent than ever. "Everything is about economics. You'll learn that over time, if you don't know it now. At some time or another, it always comes back to money. That's what it comes down to."

My face twisted in an ugly grimace. "So that's all I am to you?" I felt a tear trembling on my cheek. "I'm just an investment, to be traded or sold whenever it suits you?"

Mother sat down next to me. "No, Kelry. Not to me, you aren't. Remember when we used to play such wonderful games together?" She touched my hair softly.

"Y-yes," I sniveled.

"Would I have done such a thing if you meant so little to me?"

"No?"

She patted my cheek. "No, I wouldn't have. You're my daughter." Suddenly, she changed again. "Now," she began, all business, "About this wedding. I know it won't be for sometime yet, but we do have an engagement party to throw."

"When will that be?" I asked, almost miserably.

"In a week's time, which is why we have to hurry." Mother grinned cheerfully. "We can do it, if we work hard."

I was petrified by the thought of it. In a week I would be formally locked into this engagement, unable to escape. This was terrible! Since we were a fairly highly ranked family with old, established money, the royal family was sure to be in attendance, which meant that Daryan would also be present. If he was there, then he was sure to see me be so publicly given to the wretched Ser al Monteville and be powerless to do anything to stop it. It was horrid. Absolutely horrid.

"So, Kelry," my mother blathered onwards, unaware of my inner debate, "I think the decorations should have a theme, and not just a color. Perhaps _young love_? No, that won't work," she muttered, chuckling to herself. "Not at all. Hmm." One delicate finger tapped a graying temple. "Ah! I've got it!" Mother patted me on the hand. "We shall play out _Phaedrus_, and what a wonderful time it will be!"

I made a face behind her back as she spun around in self-satisfied delight. Despite the fact that she was my mother and years older than I was, sometimes I felt that I comported myself with much more dignity than she would ever have.

_Phaedrus_ was one of my favorite Greichish commentaries, and although it had been written centuries ago by a man long dead, it had recently captivated the Court as well.

"It's perfect, Mother. Who shall play Phaedrus?" My voice was oddly flat, and it unnerved me. Was I really so accepting already?

"Well, it will be rather difficult, since there are only male parts, but I think you, as the younger partner, will play the role of Phaedrus."

I wasn't sure that I liked this. While Phaedrus was one of the main characters, he also was the student in the relationship between him and Socrates. Moreover, if al Monteville were to play Socrates, it would imply that he was wiser than I.

"Yes," Mother nodded to herself again, her golden hair shimmering in the light of her room. "You shall be the more innocent Phaedrus, while Gerand will be Socrates. It will work perfectly!" She suddenly spun around and kissed me on the forehead. "Oh, my dear, what a wonderful party this will be!"

It hit me, then, when she said that. This was my mother's way of dealing with awkward decisions and situations. She would throw herself into the trivial, materialistic aspects of life, rather than cope constructively.

She wouldn't help me, no matter what I said. She was my father's creature after all.

**Author's Note:** Again, it has taken me forever and a day, and I apologize. I got hit with writer's block and spent several days just staring at Microsoft Word and deleting most of what I had written for this chapter. Distractions, like my boy-thing and upcoming prom, also kept me from writing by taking up lots of time, as did random, state-mandated testing. But now, it is written and posted and I hope to write chapter four within a week or two. Okay!

Right now, I don't have time to respond to my lovely, darling reviewers except to say thank you and I love you all! I will get back to you eventually, I promise. Somehow. Yes!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Love to all!


	4. And So It Goes

**Warnings: **Don't get into cars with scary men. Or carriages, as the case may be.

**Chapter Four**: And So It Goes

The week flew by in a whirl of colors, fabrics, decorations and dresses. Ulga and I were barely civil to each other, which made the long hours even more unbearable. I had no one but Nero to confide in, and he couldn't talk back.

The days were silent, except for the bland, unemotional directions that the seamstresses would give me as they fitted me for my dresses. The costume for Phaedrus was elaborate, and I hated it. My only consolation was to know that somewhere, Ser Gerand al Monteville was going through a similar process.

I was not the only one suffering.

Finally, the great day arrived; the engagement party was that night, and I was more terrified than I had ever been in my entire life. Not only was it my engagement banquet, but it was also my public debut. My mind brimmed with all the possibilities of things going wrong. I could fall, trip, spill food on myself or rip my dress. I could forget a line, or dance too long with the wrong man. I might slight Ser Gerand somehow, and he would spurn me then and there. There were thousands of ways that I could ruin the night, and I was infinitely glad that I could only think of several at a time.

'Kelryian, suck it in a little, will you?" Ulga tugged on the strings of the corset, yanking them as tight as possible.

Since I already couldn't breathe, I deliberately pushed out my stomach further. The laces dug into my back and the whalebone into my ribs, but I didn't care overly much; as long as it got no tighter, I would be fine.

"Damned brat," Ulga mumbled.

I rolled my eyes in a silent response. If she wasn't going to be nice to be, I would do the same for her. I wiggled around on the pedestal I was standing on, shaking it slightly and making it exceedingly difficult for Ulga to catch the hooks in the eyes on the back of the bodice.

"Stop moving, you worthless wretch." She spat the words through gritted teeth, angrily shoving them forth with the tip of her tongue.

Indignantly, I spun around. "I am not the worthless one here," I sneered. "At least I am married, instead of remaining a spinster my entire life." I turned again, folding my arms across my chest with a self-righteous sigh. "Some servants just don't know their place." Conveniently, I forgot that Ulga, too, had once been a lady of the court, just as I was.

"At least I," she murmured softly, "Did not marry a man I did not love." Nonchalantly, she returned to dressing me.

I stood still as stone, my entire world frozen around me. I had been so caught up in my superiority that I had somehow managed to forget about Daryan and how much I despised Gerand. By the time the first tear had dropped from my eye, I had flung myself full length on the bed and buried my face in my quilt.

"Oh." Ulga made a surprised little noise, and then she was at my side, rubbing my back and trying to comfort me.

It was as simple as that, and Ulga and I were friends once more. Or perhaps it was more like mother and daughter, but I didn't care enough to make the distinction. I was just happy to have my strongest ally at my back once more.

I stepped into the ballroom on the arm of Ser Gerand al Monteville, trembling despite an impassive face. I was terrified by all the people watching me, all the pale, vapid faces staring up at me,

"Smile, Kelryian." Gerand gave my arm a little lift with his, encouraging me to look cheerful. "You're not being executed, girl, so don't look so much like it."

My gaze flicked over to his face and then back to the sea of guests again. The expression I'd thought so neutral wasn't, apparently.

"Thank you," I murmured to him, trying desperately to bring a smile to my lips. It was hard enough for me to breathe, let alone concentrate on such an inane thing as a smile.

But somehow, it helped.

Together, Gerand and I descended the steps of a platform which would soon be our stage onto the elaborate marble floor where we would soon share our first dance.

Once more, I began to panic.

My first dance in public, which was supposed to be with some distant cousin or someone such as that, would be with my future husband, and I would have to see him every day for the rest of my married life. If I did something wrong, I would be reminded of it every time I looked at him.

My lips began to move in a silent litany of religious quotations, memorized when I was younger, but largely forgotten until now. "Oh God, forgive me, for I know not what I do," I mumbled. "I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord…" It went on, verse after verse, chapter after chapter, until Gerand silenced me with another of his subtle arm movements. I glanced at him inquisitively.

"Not so loud," he hissed. "People can hear you."

I frowned slightly in consternation. So what if they heard me? It wasn't a crime to be religious, especially when one was going to be married by the Church.

"And don't frown."

"Picky, picky," I mumbled, too softly for him to hear. With a sudden burst of cynicism, I realized that all of my movements, feelings, and expressions would be dictated by this man. "Excellent."

"Hush your mumblings."

And there he went again. I sighed, and immediately expected a reprimand for that as well. When one did not come, I was almost disappointed.

Almost, but not quite.

"Maestro!" Ser Gerand nodded towards a man in a black and silver spangled suit. The man bowed in return, and then turned to face his orchestra. As the music began to fill the great hall of our manse, the first moments of my new life began.

I found that my fiancé was not a bad dancer for a man of his age; not only was he light on his feet, but he did not push me to where I ought to go, only guided me gently. My grip on his arms relaxed and the trembling of my hands ceased. My breaths still came in short, fast gulps, but that was due more to the tempo of the song than fright. My gaze locked with his and we soared across the floor, graceful and powerful at the same time. Every spin was perfectly executed, every lift secure. In exquisite harmony, we ended the patterned dance with one, short moment of completely motionless silence.

Then, sinking slowly to my knees as protocol demanded of me, I knelt before Gerand al Monteville and bowed my head in submission. "If you will have me," I intoned, my voice breathy at first, "Then I will consent to be first your fiancé, and then, your wife. Please, accept my supplication, and I will be as your beloved from this moment on. Will you lift me up so I may do these things?"

I detested this ritual, but Gerand, per usual, showed no inclination towards any emotion. "I will have you," he said, and his words crawled across my flesh, raising the hairs along my arms. "I will take you as my fiancé and as my wife, and you will be as my beloved from this moment on." His hands enfolded mine tightly, and I gasped as the bones of my fingers rubbed together. "Rise, now, and fulfill your promises."

Slowly, I rose, watching him warily all the while. In such a short span of time he had gone from a man whom I could almost trust, to one who terrified me more than anyone else I knew.

With the rite done, the silence of the assemblage was broken. Polite applause accompanied the conclusion of the rite, and soon the hall was filled with dancers as the music started up once more. I caught sight of my mother and father sharing the first dance with one another, and I had difficulty telling whether or not they enjoyed it. Before I could spot any of the other guests that I knew personally, Ser Gerand al Monteville pulled me close to him and began to dance.

I followed numbly, repulsed by our proximity, yet also delighting in the ease with which we danced. "Kelryian," he muttered to me, "What did I tell you about smiling?"

"I will try, my lord." I avoided his gaze at all costs this time, fearing that the savagery which had colored his speaking would be there in his eyes as well. I curved my lips upwards in a sad mockery of a grin. It looked more like a grimace, I'm sure, but it seemed to satisfy Ser Gerand, for he said no more.

When that dance was over, and a new one was taking wing, my fiancé left my side with no hesitation. I stood, stupidly, in the middle of the dancers, not knowing what to do.

"Sera Kelryian, if you do not care to dance, will you at least remove yourself from the floor and walk with me awhile?" A man spoke softly into my ear, his voice low and gentle.

"Yes, I suppose so." I smiled vaguely at him, not really taking note of who he was. "Thank you." He took my hand in his and tugged, leading me like a cow away from the others.

"Sera, your debut has been a success thus far, I believe." He had nice gloves, I noticed. They were black, with black embroidery for decoration. I smiled slightly.

"Mhm, I suppose it has gone well." We had reached one of the many porticos that lined the walls.

"Shall we go outside?"

"That would be nice." It was nice to get away from the ball.

He said, "It's a lovely evening, don't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose so," I answered blandly, not truly paying attention to what he was saying. My thoughts had long turned inward, to the bleak possibilities that my life now held.

"Do you like Ser Gerand?" My new friend was a conscientious man, at least.

"I suppose."

He chuckled. "You don't know?"

"No," I answered, distracted once more by my own thoughts.

"Do you like orange mice?" His tone remained ever polite, ever chivalrous.

"Mm, yes, I suppose I do. Do you?"

"Yes, I do, you know. I like to eat them with pickled children. Have you ever tried that dish? I hear it's quite a delicacy in the Sudetenland." So immersed was I in my own morbid, inner musings that I completely missed the delicious irony in his words.

"Yes, I believe I've had that. I suppose it was good." I nodded thoughtfully, as if I was contemplating his every word.

"Do you suppose that you might look at me?" His hand brushed my chin lightly, and it startled me.

"Who are you?" I felt tears prick my eyes. What had I been saying to this man?

"I," he began with a flourishing bow, "Am Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo." He finished with a delicate kiss to the back of my hand. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lovely, distracted, distracting Sera."

I felt the blush suffuse my cheeks, and I was absolutely mortified by knowing that Ser Thomhas could see it as well. "Thank you, good Ser dy Cattalo, for your most enchanting compliments." My lips began to twist upwards of their own volition. "You seemed to have saved me from making a further fool of myself, and for that I thank you."

He grinned unabashedly in response, his dark eyes dancing with delight. "My dear Sera, I would do anything for you. You are the lady of the night."

The mention of the night's celebrations had a sobering effect on me. "I would that you could do anything for me, but I know that you cannot. Besides, it would be inappropriate of me to say."

He was instantly by my side. "Does something not please you? Does my presence offend?"

I smiled again, but it was wan and half-hearted. "No, it isn't you, Ser Thomhas."

"Sweet Sera Kelryian, please, do not be melancholy. I will do everything in my power to bring a smile back to your lips." Thomhas's face was so eagerly earnest that I couldn't help my laugh.

"You have done it, Ser dy Cattalo; see it! I laugh." I was as amused by his expression as I was by the ridiculously high-mannered words we were using. "Congratulations to you. If we had been playing a game of forfeits, you would have won something for that."

Thomhas smiled at that. "If it were, I know exactly what I would take from you. I would take it now, but I'm afraid your fiancé would object," he added brashly.

"Ser Thomhas!" I giggled in half-scandalized delight. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Ah! A challenge from the good Sera!" He laughed lightly. "Shall I answer it?" Caught suddenly in a moment of decision, I hesitated. He must have taken my silence and nonplussed expression for consent, because in that moment, he leaned down and placed a kiss softly on my lips. "I believe I shall answer," he murmured softly, drawing back only slightly from me.

I was stunned, unable to say anything at all. I couldn't move to push him away, as both my responsibility to my fiancé and to Daryan demanded, or draw him near again, as my passionate impulses urged me to do.

In the end, neither of us spoke, but he moved towards me again, cupping my face with hands covered in supple black leather.

**Author's Note**: Well, that was quite an ending. The vast majority of this was written this afternoon, too. I'm kind of proud of that. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I do! I will try not to take so long with the next chapter…but who knows. Maybe I'll have more time now that AP Testing is out of the way. Hopefully!

Well, please review, I really appreciate it. It was **minor** this time who reminded me to update, so thank minor for this chapter! I know I certainly do...! Thanks muchly. )

Love to all!


	5. Intermission

**Chapter Five: Intermission**

"Ouch!" I yelped as the pin stuck me in the side. The seamstresses my mother had hired either weren't friendly or didn't like me. Or both.

"If you'd stand still, Sera, instead of slouching all the time, you wouldn't get stuck." The deft-fingered woman grumbled at me in a cranky monotone. "Posture is everything."

"How am I supposed to move in this?"

"That's not my concern." She made a face as she shoved another pin through a particularly thick wad of fabric. "I am to make sure that this confounded dress stays on you, that's all. I don't care if you can move or not…Sera." She muttered something to herself, but I didn't bother asking her to repeat it. I figured it wasn't worth hearing anyway.

My thoughts turned inward, picking through recent events like so many maids carding their wool. Now engaged to the enigmatic Ser Gerand al Monteville, I was even more restrained than usual. I was allowed only in the company of other women, which prohibited me from even hoping to end up alone with Daryan…or Thomhas.

Thomhas…now that was a quandary. I didn't know what to think about him. After our brief interlude had ended after a singularly revolutionary action on his part, I hadn't seen him again. I had looked for him while performing _Phaedrus_ with Ser al Monteville, but I had not seen him. Where had he gone? I had asked Ulga if she had seen such a man as Ser dy Cattalo, but she said she had not.

Easily, I turned my thoughts from the mysterious Thomhas to the delightful Daryan. Even though he had not been in attendance at the engagement celebration, I still cherished the image of his face that seemed graven in my mind. A small smile made its nest on my lips and I stood, dazed and happy, while I thought of him. I devised a vain fantasy that had Daryan rescuing me on the night of my marriage, spiriting me away in the name of love. I almost had myself convinced that he would do such a thing, because I was sure that he loved me as much as I loved him, despite the fact that we had met but once.

"Sera?"

"Hmm?" I giggled softly.

"Turn please." The seamstress's competent hands spun me around forcibly, positioning me exactly where she pleased. Happily, I complied, still caught up in my own thoughts of Daryan.

When Ulga entered the room at last, I stirred. "Hello, love," she said by way of greeting. "Everything going well?"

"Yes," snapped the seamstress. "Fine."

"Oh. Shall I leave you two alone, then?" Ulga chuckled at the look of dismay which flashed across my face. "I take that as a no."

"Ulga, my dearest nurse of all nurses, don't you care to spare me from the tortures of this day?" I whipped around, wincing as what seemed like a thousand pins made me into a porcupine.

"Oh, come, Neryl isn't that bad of company." Ulga patted my hand. "Besides, you'll have to get used to your wants being ignored."

My face fell as she said that, and I turned away from her. "I know. But for now…can't you just spirit me away for several hours, just to give me a break from standing here?"

She sighed dramatically. "I suppose. Neryl, you are dismissed. Come back tomorrow, if you will." My governess smiled ruefully at the woman. "Children! See how restless they are?"

"Don't I know it," Neryl grumbled as she packed her things. "This one has barely stood still for more than a moment!" Though she complained, she still smiled, as if she were a doting mother. "Run off and play, Sera. Lord knows it's the last time you'll be able to do so afore you're married." With this parting shot, Neryl offered her obeisance and departed, leaving Ulga and me to our own devices.

"Ulga, must I get married?" I clasped her hand loosely. "Can't you just take me away forever?"

She smiled again, the crows' feet around her eyes hopping about. "I would that I could, Kelry. I would surely do so in a heartbeat." Her plump fingers meshed slightly more tightly with mine. "I can't bear to lose you."

"Why are you losing me?" Several panicky thoughts suddenly surface in the pool of my mind. Was I dying? Going far, far away? What? "Ulga?" I swallowed hurriedly, trying to choke back my fears.

"They haven't told you?" Her eyes were full of pity. "Oh, these cruel, heartless people. They have no souls, no kindness."

"What? What is it?" Was Ulga dying? What was going on?

"I'm not to come with you. My tenure lasts until you are married, and my job is done. For most, the governess leaves after the public debut. Your father is different in this; he wishes not to find a lady's maid at his own expense when you are so soon to belong to another."

What a man my father was.

That night, as I sat in my bed watching the candle flame slowly flickering out, I tried to drown myself in endless waves of self-pity. If I were to go to Gerand's mansion without my beloved Ulga, I would be without a single friend or ally. Lost and alone, I would have to fend for myself amidst a sea of strangers.

A tear slipped down my nose and plopped onto Nero's head, glistening in his fur for a moment before dissolving completely. Another one soon followed, and once more, I found myself blubbering hopelessly about my fate.

As I wiped the snot from my nose, I resolved to stop doing that, but as soon as Ulga walked into the room, I burst out in a fresh round of tears.

"Ulga," I sniffled, "I can't get married." I gulped in a quick breath. "I'm only fifteen!"

She smiled sadly, patting my back. "True enough, Kelry. But you'll grow up fast enough." A sad look came into her eyes. "You will indeed." But then, a mischievous light sparkled into her eyes. "But maybe, not yet."

"Ulga?" I stared at her in confusion. What was she up to now?

"I have an idea for you, Kelryian, but you will need to be more demanding, spoiled and feminine than you have ever been in your entire life." She grinned, the folds of excess skin that usually hung around her mouth lifting upwards to form round cheeks. "Would you like to know how I can get you out of this debacle?"

I nodded eagerly. "Tell me!"

"You will have to go against both your father and your mother, and heed not what Gerand says to you." She hugged me tightly. "Maybe I won't loose you yet, my girl."

"Ulga!" I was getting impatient. Anyway of getting out of this –any way at all--would be welcome. "Just tell me!"

She patted my hand. "Here is what you will do: at dinner tonight, immediately after everything is cleared away, you must state that you have an announcement for all to hear. After you have stood and caught the attention of all present, you will make a speech…" As Ulga spoke, I listened raptly, my own attention caught in the snare of our plan. In my speech I would demand a wedding present from my fiancé: a dress as shining as the sun. I would not be allowed to take no for an answer, and I must keep demanding until I got my wish. Then, after the first dress was completed and presented to me, I would demand a second, as silver as the moon, a third, which was to be as sparkling as the stars, and then, finally, a cloak made of the skins of a thousand cats. I was to refuse to be married until these demands were met. "And so, my sweet, once you have these garments, you will run from this house and escape into the world."

My mouth had dropped open while Ulga schemed, and slowly, I closed it. "Will it work?"

She shrugged. "I suppose." Then she smiled. "Don't worry, Kelry."

That night, as I carefully arranged my skirts around me in my seat of honor next to Gerand, I could not wait for dessert to come. My childish impatience must have shown.

"Are you always this restive during the dinner hours?" Gerand growled at me, his eyes dark.

"I just anticipate our coming wedding, and this semblance of our life together stirs me to the marrow," I dissembled pleasantly, smiling artlessly.

Ser Monteville frowned. "If you are this edgy after the wedding, I fear I may have to tie you to the chair."

I couldn't tell if he was jesting or not, and so I merely nodded politely.

"How old _are_ you, Kelryian?"

I flinched at the sound of my full name rolling off of his tongue. "Fifteen, my lord, though I will come of age in two months' time."

"Summer-born, then. It is a wonder you are so mannered."

"My lord?" What did my birth-season have anything to do with my manners?

"Summer's children are often as wild and as willful as the weeds that encroach upon even the finest garden. It takes a mighty effort to tame them."

Even though I still didn't understand him, I nodded as if I did. "Of course, my lord."

He grumbled, "If you call me 'my lord' one more time, I'll tie your mouth shut as well."

"Yes, sir," I responded, ever polite. "I am sorry if my manners offend you."

He chuckled at that. "Summer-child yet."

I smiled to myself. Summer-born indeed. Wait until he found out what was going to happen next.

"Ser, Sera." A delicately boned, bordering on effeminate, man leaned between us, bearing a silver tray of pastry delicacies to the table top. "I present to you your dessert."

The grin spread wider about my lips. The time was almost at hand.

I enjoyed that pastry immensely.

Daintily, I wiped my mouth with my napkin, and then stood. Gerand stared at me, almost angrily, but I ignored him. "I have something to say."

Not the most eloquent thing I had ever said, but it would have to do.

"Before I get married, I must assure myself of my fiancé's continuing wealth, to prove that he marries me for love, and not for any lesser reason." Oh, how I reveled in the cold, twisting irony in _that_. "Would you, Ser Gerand al Monteville, indulge my feminine fancies?"

Now he was truly glaring at me. "What is it?" He snarled. "What more can you want from me?" Gerand stood slowly, raising himself to his full height so as to intimidate me.

It worked, and it worked well.

I trembled visibly. "I wish…I…" I bit my lip hesitantly, hating myself for my fear. Suddenly, I caught sight of Ulga. She looked almost as near to tears as I was.

"Who has put you up to this, child?" Gerand leaned closer to me, as one lover bending to another.

I suddenly found my voice, my love for Daryan and my own desire to get away from this man overwhelming me with a flood of confidence. "I wish that you would show your love to me as I have already done tenfold for you."

"Feminine fancies are not to be indulged, they are to be curbed."

I whipped around to face my father, who was suddenly there, and quite angry. He gripped my wrist tightly with one hand.

"But love? Is love to be ignored?" My voice rang out across the hall with deliberate volume. "Can you tell a heart not to love?"

Behind me, Gerand al Monteville let out a derisive snort. "Foolish girl."

"Be that as it may," I rounded on him, "Foolish girls, idealists, are what bring hope and light and love to the world." So caught up was I in my passion that I almost believed myself.

Almost, but not quite.

"What is it that you wish from me?" Gerand capitulated with a sigh, wishing to not lose any more control over the situation.

"A dress as shining and golden as the sun- that is what I wish." I held my head high. "And I will not be married without it."

There. The final word was said.

At least, for this day it was.

"As my lady wishes, a dress to outshine the sun." My fiancé nodded. "Now, let us enjoy the short remainder of our meal."

I sat down, a triumphant smile on my lips.

One down, three to go.

**Author's Note**: Sorry about the delay. I got a good start whilst freezing in upstate New York (laptops are nice and warm), but then I got side-tracked with college assignments, like writing sans fantasy. But, here it is…and I think (really, really hope) that the next chapter will be sooner in forthcoming. At least, it shouldn't take an entire month to write. But I'll be damned if I know what's going to stop me this time…gah.

Thanks for all the reviews and review again, if you please! I really do appreciate them.

Lots of love to everyone, and enjoy your summer/winter, depending on where you live.


	6. UhOh Oreos

**Warnings**: I really can't think up chapter titles….and reality is never as nice as your tamest fantasies.

**Chapter Six**: Uh-Oh Oreos

The thunder shuddered along the expensive window panes, following close in the jagged path of the lightening. "Ulga?"

"Yes, Kelry?"

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth. "Did I do right?"

She sighed. "I believe so. You follow your heart, yes?"

I followed Ulga…but I supposed that what Ulga said was in my best interest, and therefore in my heart. "Yes…" I paused. "But Ulga, how will I make my escape?"

"We will worry about that later, my dear one. Not now. For now, you will simply concentrate upon bending Ser Gerand al Monteville to do your bidding."

In the end, that was exactly what I did. After I was gifted with the golden gown, I immediately demanded another, one as silvery as the moon. With each subsequent request, my fiancé became more irritable, but acquiesced more readily. I knew not if it was simply to get it over with, or as a true indulgence of my whimsies. I also cared not, for the only attentions that really mattered to me were those of Daryan, whom I had not seen in well over a month.

My last demand was presented to me on the night of my birthday; the twenty-fourth day of July was celebrated with a great feast in my honor, followed by a grand presentation of the cloak made from a thousand cat skins.

Even I had to admit it was an ugly piece of work. Despite the best efforts of the seamstresses to beautify the hairy skins, it was still a motley of colors and textures, some spots patchy, others luscious.

I smiled widely. "Thank you, Gerand." My grin widened. "It is lovely, far lovelier than any of the dresses you have gifted me with yet. Thank you."

Gerand gave me a strange look at that, but said nothing.

"Don't be daft," my mother said harshly. "It's horrid, and you know it, Kelryian." She stood angrily. "How could you call this gift the loveliest yet?" Karise dy Relandrant rounded on Gerand. "And you? How could you think to present my daughter with such a wretched, disgusting present? It is the day of her birth and you think to insult her with this!"

"My dear Sera Karise," Gerand defended himself, inclining his head politely, "Your beloved progeny did request such an item. Will you protest her own wishes on the grounds that it is not suitable for her?"

My mother paled considerably; her slip had been caused by her own, now evident, ignorance, and possibly overindulgence in the wine provided once more in my honor. This public faux pas cast an ill light on both her character and her motherly qualities. "No. I suppose I shall not."

Quietly, she sat.

I almost pitied her. But…not quite. "Gerand, if I may ask one more thing of you…" A smile played around my lips.

His brow furrowed, and he sighed. "What, my dear?"

"Would you be so kind as to cut me another slice of cake?" Uneasy chuckles shivered through the room. "Thank you." I grinned as I forked a piece of the chocolate delight into my mouth. It was absolutely delicious cake.

"In the morning, my dear," Gerand said to me, knowing full well that I could not respond, "We shall, at long last, be wed."

I coughed violently as I tried to inhale my cake along with a horrified gasp. I mumbled, "Tomorrow?" I felt the tears building up behind my eyes, like soldiers getting ready to storm a fort.

"Pardon?"

I swallowed, and then repeated, "Tomorrow? Morning?"

Gerand looked at me funny. "Of course, Kelryian. It is the moment we've been delaying for several months now."

Right. Of course. "It just comes as a shock…after so much waiting…you know." I hastily shoveled another chuck of cake into my open mouth, just so I wouldn't have to say anything else.

"Darling," Gerand began, scorn accenting ever syllable, "Don't tell me you've forgotten we were to be married." He smiled gently. Well, it would have been gentle if I hadn't seen the malice that crept in around the edges.

"No, indeed, I had not. How could I forget?" The laughter spilled out of my mouth unevenly. "This is the day I have anticipated for so very long…" And it was. Tonight was the night that Ulga was to help me make my escape into the great wide world, away from the horrors of my impending marriage, and away from a future that was no longer set in stone.

"My dearest one, you had better stop eating cake, hadn't you? Else you'll not fit into that lovely gown I've had made for you!" Gerand chuckled cruelly.

I could have thrown the remaining cake at him.

"Pardon me, my lord, but I must get to bed now, and get my beauty rest." I stood abruptly, spilling crumbs down my front. "Good night."

I swept out of that hall like a chill west wind, blowing the sweet happiness of spun sugar decorations to pieces with my scarcely muted anger.

"Ulga, what shall I do?" I faced the stone wall, my forehead pressed close against the rough rock, clutching the catskin amalgamation to my chest. "I don't know how to survive on my own?" The realities of my plight were sinking in. I wouldn't be able to simply walk through Tännon-city and demand whatever I pleased; doing that would instantly give away my whereabouts to any who might be looking for me- Gerand, my parents…Daryan, I dared to hope. I didn't know how to work, though I could sew exceedingly well.

"You shall be hidden away. I have found a place for you, Kelry. Don't worry, my dove, all will be well." Ulga's smile wove its way through her words and into my melancholy. "You'll be working in the palace."

The palace? But Daryan- he would recognize me!

My head shot up in panic, and I felt the stone scratch my forehead roughly. Then, a smile slowly seeped through. Daryan _would_ recognize me, and he would know my reasons for hiding. He would keep my secret, because our love was pure. Then, we would be married, and none could touch me as a princess val Tännon. Not even my father or my fiancé could purchase their way in this.

"Kelryian?" Ulga touched my shoulder. "What is it?"

"You are wonderful!" I spun around and wrapped my arms around her warm, familiar bulk. "The palace, why, that's excellent! Who would think to look for me there, in the heart of all the gentry? You are brilliant!" I squeezed her tightly. "Thank you, Ulga, thank you."

She smiled, slightly bewildered, but mostly proud. "I will get you away, my girl, away from all of this." Suddenly, she was business like. "Now, to get you out. I have arranged a coach for myself to my house in Tännon-city. You, as a maid dy Relandrant, will accompany me and carry my things for me. Do you understand me?"

I nodded. "Yes, of course. But what shall I do with my dresses? And the cloak?"

"Here, I have packed them already for you. Worry not, my darling, I have made ready." A broad grin limned her face with lines. Holding out her hand, she continued. "These three boxes hold the dresses that you demanded of Ser Gerand; your cloak will be one of my packages." I observed the tiniest cubes that I had ever seen. How had the gowns ever fit into something so small? At my questioning glance, she explained. "These boxes were gifted to me by my mother, and she by hers and so on and so forth. They were a gift to my family many generations ago from the Fair Folk. I don't know why, or how, they work the way they do, but I am thankful. If I had a daughter of my own, they would go to her."

"But you don't…you just have…me…" I smiled in sudden comprehension. "Oh, that I should have been born to you instead of to my own mother," I cried, hugging her tightly once more.

"Hush, don't say such things." She rubbed my back. "But yes, I do give these to you now, as you have need." Ulga smiled grimly. "Now, to get you out of here."

"Bother! That was my _head_." I rubbed the newest sore spot gingerly. "Ouch." I had never realized before how rough cobblestones really were, and how much I appreciated the innovative design of my family's modern carriage.

Beside me, Ulga chuckled. She didn't seem to be having any problems. "You'll live, Kelry."

I shrugged. She could believe what she liked, but I wasn't so sure. Those bumps hurt. I winced as I was thrown once more against the wall of the coach. "How much longer?"

"Oh, not much, I should think."

An eternity, then.

Wonderful.

I sighed as my head once more cracked against the barely-cushioned wall. "Ulga…how am I going to get into the palace?" I couldn't exactly waltz in there, expecting an announcement and audience with the King and Queen.

"You're a maid, Kelryian. Remember?"

I stared at her, not comprehending her hidden meaning. "I'm a what?"

"A maid. You know what one of those is." She smiled encouragingly. "A maid is a girl who does things for the gentry. I, essentially, am your maid." Ulga's smile began to fade. "Kelry?"

I scrunched my face up, trying desperately to understand why Ulga was telling me what a maid was. I _knew_ what a maid was. I had several of them at home, simple girls who did…things for me. I never cared precisely what, they just did…stuff. Menial tasks that I would never be caught dead doing. Like laundry.

Dirty clothes just weren't my style.

"So…you're saying that you're my maid. But haven't you always been that?"

My governess sighed huffily. "Kelryian! Don't be so dense; you are to be a maid in the palace. I don't know how I could be any more specific!"

"You're joking."

She wasn't.

"But…I don't know how to be a…a…maid." The word tasted bad in my mouth.

"It's not hard. Just do whatever the head cook tells you."

This time it was my fault when my head hit the wall. "But I can't cook!" I had tried, when I was younger and thought it entertaining to watch the cooks create their marzipan masterpieces. After incessant begging, one of them had finally given in and showed me what to do. I surrendered after only five minutes of frustration; the dough of the tarts would not roll properly, and it stuck to my hands. My marzipan only looked like a lump after I was through with it, and nothing I did seemed to have the magical qualities of the cooks'.

Ulga laughed at me, seemingly finding my predicament hilarious. "Oh, you won't be cooking, my dear. You'll be a maid, like I said- a scullery maid."

"A scullery maid? What's a scullery?" I tried to remember anyone telling me about such a person, but I couldn't.

"You'll scrub the pots and pans, and such like. You'll be an underling to the head cook, so you must do whatever she says. Don't try to give him orders; he won't like it very much, I'm sure." She smiled gently. "You used to play with the scullery maid, once upon a time. Do you remember?"

My face lost the vast majority of the blood that had suffused it in a matter of seconds. "Anya? Oh dear god, I'm to be like _Anya_?"

Oh, the bruises on that girl's pale flesh. They were livid against the alabaster of her skin. And the dirt, which smeared her rough features from head to toe…I was to be subjected to that miserable existence?

"Yes, Kelry, you are to be like Anya. She's a good, hard working girl."

I cringed. It seemed that my further existence would not be a pleasant one, and it definitely wouldn't be the high living I was used to.

"Come, now, it won't be so bad. It will be far better than marrying that sorry excuse for a man that you've left behind."

True. Anything that got me away from Gerand al Monteville had to have some sustaining qualities about it. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

**Author's Note**: Hey cool! A chapter up in a fairly decent amount of time! How nifty! And…I actually like this chapter, and I am satisfied with the writing. Spiffy.

Anyway…school is almost done. One more week, and then…freedom! Summer is my favorite time of year.

Thank you so very much to everyone who was kind enough to review…it makes me so happy! So…review again, and make me smile, and I'll try and update faster. I promise.

X's and O's to everyone!


	7. Sweet Potato Pie

**Warnings: **Some people just aren't nice.

**Chapter Seven**: Sweet Potato Pie

"Get up you lazy wretch, up!" The hard toe of someone's boot dug angrily into my soft side. "Now!" One more jab, and I was up and rolling.

"How dare you kick me!" I raised my hand to slap whoever was abusing me so, but my wrist was caught in an equally angry grip. Belatedly, I remembered my newly lowered status.

"Don't even think to hit me, girl."

I finally got a look at who I was dealing with. "I'm sorry, Mistress Taggart. I shan't do it again. I apologize from the bottom of my soul." My gentle tones were out of place amongst the hard scrabble of kitchen life.

"Don't be sorry. Don't do it next time." She cuffed me upside the head casually, and I flinched. "Don't sleep late either."

"Yes, Mistress." I bowed my head, the subservient action grating against all my schooling. This petty woman, matriarch of the kitchens, should be groveling on the floor before me, not the other way around. "It's just that I was up so late last night, helping with the…" I trailed off. No help there.

"We all were, you hapless wench. No excuse for you." Mistress Taggart snorted. "You're not any more special than Simple Jenny, so don't go thinking so."

"But…" I was special! I was a noble lady, engaged to a man of high standing, a rich man, who had bought his title…

…but I had given all of that up when I ran off. I realized that suddenly, and I wanted to cry. Even if I would have been miserable with Gerand, it would have been a thousand times better than _this_.

The kitchen was a hell all by itself. Satan incarnate was the head cook, Chef Jerauld nach Koeln. Beelzebub, Satan's little helper, was Mistress Taggart. The chores of this hell were the myriad tortures bestowed on the sinners like myself.

How I hated my new, chosen life.

I pulled the catskin cloak tighter around me; I hadn't taken it off since leaving Ulga's coach at the edge of the palace's boundary. It was…safe.

"Mistress Catskin, listen to me!" The slap burned across my cheek like wildfire, leaving an angry red flame in its wake. "Have you heard a word I've said?"

"Yes, Mistress Taggart. Everything."

She folded her arms, her angular frame jutting out in harsh lines. "Repeat it back to me."

"Um…" I stared at the floor. "I can't."

"Don't be so simple," Mistress Taggart snapped. "You have a brain, so use it."

"I can't remember." I braced myself for the clout that I knew was coming. "I'm sorry." Tears eked steadily out of the corners of my eyes. I had never been in so much pain before in my life. My hands ached from scrubbing, my back was cramped from perpetually bending, my very bones screamed in agony at being forced to sleep on the stone floor of the kitchen, with only the catskins in between us. And now, my face her from the abuse it was taking.

"You will be scrubbing the pots and pans today. _As you do everyday_. Is this clear?" Mistress Taggart eyed me exasperatedly.

"Yes, Mistress. It is." I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath of kitchen air, inhaling the overwhelming odor of rotting leftovers into my lungs. "I shall begin right away."

"Oh no you won't," she said, a vile look on her face. She looked _happy_. Viciously so. "First you must do penance for the error of your ways."

Oh, sweet Madonna and holy Child, a punishment already. "What will you have me do?"

"You'll scrub every inch of this floor, right out to the door that leads to the Dining hall. You shan't go any farther- you're not fit for public eyes." The nasty smirk appeared once more on face. "Now, get to work. If you don't have all of your work completed by the end of this day, you'll have more tomorrow."

So it wasn't exactly logical, but I did my best, slaving away diligently for Mistress Taggart. By the time I finished the floor, it was nearing dark, and my fellows in the scullery had deliberately left much for me to do, in the catty ways of young girls. I knew, though, that I would have done the same to one of them.

By the time the moon was high in a sky I couldn't see, I had cut through half of the pile of greasy, food-encrusted pots, pans, plates and all other assortment of cutlery and what have you. My fingers had gone wrinkly and numb at the tips some time ago, so I slogged onwards, diligently, desperately trying to finish before dawn.

"Mistress Catskin, whatever are you still doing up?" The sweet voice that caught my ears made me feel guilty for even hearing it. I felt as if my ears had spoiled the utter perfection of the delicate tones.

"I'm washing and scrubbing," I replied stolidly, too tired to affect a courtly air.

"But Mistress Catskin, it's long after the time that you should be asleep!" A gentle touch on my dirty cheek made me shiver. "You must be tired."

I turned a flat gaze on the girl who addressed me. "I don't remember your name, nor do I care to. Leave me to my work." Turning again, I picked up another dish. I didn't wish to be tormented by the other scullery maids, but they had it in their heads that I liked it.

"But Catskin, my darling Catskin, surely you must remember me!" The blonde wench cooed delightedly at me. "I'm your one true friend."

This dialogue was interrupting my dishwashing. I ignored her. I had to finish by dawn. Before dawn. Sometime. My head began to feel fuzzy, and I sighed.

"Surely you must know Lucia, your only ally!" Her face peered closely at me, trying to see through the dirt smeared on my face. "You know you're just getting the dishes dirtier, you filthy slut."

What a change! From charming to cruel in the span of a second. "Look, Lucia," I began, but she cut me off.

"Dirty, filthy Catskin! So dusty, like the oldest book in the Prince's Library! Older than the King, the Queen, older than Tännon!" Lucia was back to her merry sing-song. "You're and old spinster under all that filth, aren't you, Mistress Catskin?"

Idly, I smacked her with a soapy hand, the only part of me that ever seemed to have a hope of being clean, now.

She squealed in shock. "You're a rotten slut, you are!" Lucia, her blue eyes pooling with feigned tears, looked down at her shift angrily. "This was my best one, too! And look what you've done to it!"

I suddenly noticed the fine quality of what she was wearing. And what she was wearing…"Why aren't you dressed?"

A coy smile unfurled on those luscious lips. "Why should I be?" The satisfaction in her expression was more than enough to give her away, but she continued. "_He_ likes it better when I wear less. It's simpler that way." Her smile widened into a malicious grin. "I bet you've never even had a man look at you, dirty wretch."

I almost told her everything. Right then and there, I was willing to tell this horrible, petty girl my biggest secret. But I didn't. I shook my head.

"Hah!" She crowed gleefully. "I knew it! What poor bastard would ever want you?" Lucia was triumphant! She was better than poor, despised Catskin. I chuckled to myself.

"So, who is this grand personage who you've been entertaining?" I kept my eyes downcast, concentrating on the china plate in my hands.

"Oh he's absolutely wonderful, you'll never guess." She was just so smug. "Go on, guess!"

I rolled my eyes, but the spiteful creature didn't see, so shrouded in her own glory that she saw nothing else. "Ser Gerand al Monteville?" It was the name closest to my mind.

When she didn't respond, I looked up to see her pouting. "You guessed! How? Did that wretched Katy tell you? I knew I shouldn't have told her!" Lucia was fuming, with all the anger a girl can muster at a moment's notice.

As much as I would have liked to pit Lucia against Katy, I didn't. I'd have two of my comrades angry at me then. "It was just a guess." I shrugged. "Nothing more."

"Oh." Lucia wasn't precisely placated, though. "It was an awfully good guess, wasn't it, Catskin?" The seething anger that had so recently been directed at Katy needed some place to go. "How'd you know? Were you spying on me, I wonder?" That nasty grin found its way back onto her face.

"No. I was washing dishes." I allowed myself one bit of anger to sneak through. "Whilst you were off sleeping with Ser al Monteville, an affianced man."

I didn't get the response I'd hoped for. "Oh, didn't you know? He's no longer betrothed!"

"_What?_" I dropped the plate. It shattered. I ignored it. _Gerand wasn't waiting for me, searching for me, anything? He didn't _care _about me? _

"Yes," Lucia gloated. "Didn't you know?" She laughed maliciously. "That girl, Sera dy Relandrant shamed her family and ran off with some other man. I heard she'd already consummated that particular relationship."

My jaw was slack, my eyes wide. "Keep going."

Lucia seemed to relish gossip, so she didn't need much encouraging. "They say that she took most of his money and ran away with it, although Gerand certainly has a lot of money…" The wretched girl had the nerve to smile at me. "He spends most of it on me. That Sera of his, she just wanted anything he could give her. He told me that she asked for three of the most beautiful dresses he had ever seen, and then one of the ugliest. I tried to ask him what they were, but he wouldn't tell me…"

I laughed hoarsely as another dish crashed to the floor. "I suppose they were too embarrassing for him."

She shrugged. "Sure." Then she pointed. "That's the second plate you've dropped."

I groaned. "So it is."

Once more, Lucia returned to her sweet self. "Why don't you let me finish up for you?" The honey in her voice coated my ears and made my thoughts sticky.

"Would you?" I stifled a yawn. It was really far too late. "I'll clean up the china…"

"Oh, don't worry about that, I'll get it." Lucia's helping hands led me to my place on the floor, where I curled up, and was almost immediately asleep.

"You worthless thing! Lazy, sluggard, lie-abed child!" I scrambled backwards; this was my second rude awakening in two days, and I could barely organize my thoughts before the rain of blows began. "Get you up! There is work for you!" Mistress Taggart was _furious_.

But what had I done? Lucia had offered…

Oh. Lucia.

"Mistress Taggart, I am ever so sorry, oh please, please, forgive me, but I was so tired, please, Mistress, I did not mean to leave the dishes unwashed. Oh…"

_Oh_.

"Leave them unwashed, eh? You did no such thing!" Her rage battered me as she dragged me by my hair. "You horrible, awful, wretched, terrible, creature!" She threw me forward unexpectedly and I felt the shards of china slice into my exposed palms. "How _dare_ you do such a thing in the royal kitchens! I have told Jerauld, and he is most displeased with you." Mistress Taggart's fury had moved from physical expression to a look of extremely cold displeasure. She absolutely despised me now, whereas before she had merely disliked me.

Oh was I in trouble now.

"Is this the perpetrator?"

My eyes widened in terror as I was hauled bodily to my feet and spun around to face Satan himself. "Oh sweet Madonna…" But that was all I got out.

"Shut your mouth, girl, if that's what you are." Jerauld nach Koeln stood before me, large and very, very angry. With me. "I want no protests out of your mouth." He turned his steely gaze on Mistress Taggart. "You are certain that this is the one who committed such a crime?"

"Yes, I am." She stood proud, happy to be of use to her master. I hated her in that moment, more than I ever hated someone before. She had openly condemned me.

"Why, child, did you do this?" The head cook's voice was like ice flowing through my ears and down my neck. It made me tremble and fall silent. "Why?" He bellowed. "Tell me!" His strong hands shook me roughly and I whimpered.

This wasn't supposed to happen! I was only supposed to hide here for a time, a short time, until Daryan came and found me and carried me away. I was noble-born, old blood and old money. _They couldn't do this to me!_

But I wasn't. I never remembered that. "But Lucia said she'd do the rest for me!" I cowered in the grasp of the angriest man I had ever faced.

"Where is Lucia?" Jerauld growled out his inquiry.

"Here, sir." The blonde head and pretty smile presented themselves promptly before Jerauld.

"Did you make this mess?" Jerauld nach Koeln was still quite angry, and it felt as if he was ripping out my hair.

"No, sir!" Lucia looked scandalized. "I would never, ever do such a thing!"

Liar.

"Then why does this creature say you did?" I was pushed forward gracelessly.

Lucia looked suddenly very sorrowful. "She doesn't like me, sir. I have no idea why, as I've only been nice to her since she came here." I wanted to leap at her and force her to tell the truth. I would wipe that pretty smile right off her face and-

"Is this true?" All eyes were back on me again.

"No." I glared at Lucia, silently calling her names.

Jerauld shook me. "You did it, why don't you admit it?" His foreign accent became harsher when he was angry.

"I didn't do it! I was asleep!"

"When she should have been doing work, instead of smashing dishes," Mistress Taggart added matter-of-factly.

"I didn't! I didn't do the work, I didn't break the dishes! I didn't!" Tears plowed burning canals in the dirt that covered my face. "Why don't believe me?" My sobbing did little to affect them.

"Why should we believe you, Mistress Catskin," Lucia's friend, Katy, asked me slyly. "Lucia has been here for years, and never done a thing to black her name, but you…you have. Why should we believe you?"

"Because I'm not lying!" I sank as far down as the grip that held me upright would let me. "I'm not, I'm not!" I had progressed into hysterics, now, trying to prove my innocence, but they didn't help my case at all.

But in the end, it was proved that I was lying, and all the accusing eyes of the kitchen staff declared it so.

It was decided that I would receive twenty lashes, one for every dish I was said to have broken. It was a struggle to remove the cloak I had worn so nearly as my own skin for the past week, and I fought as valiantly as I could, half mad with terror. I was unused to pain, and the thought of it being knowingly inflicted bothered me greatly.

When the first blow fell on my bare skin, I screamed. All hopes of silent bravado disappeared in an instant of stinging pain. I lost count after two, cowering on my knees before one of the lads who turned the great spits. He held the lash with a practiced hand, and I knew that this really was a hell.

By the twentieth lash, I was all but unconscious from the sheer agony of it all, splayed half-naked on the flagstones of the kitchen courtyard. Tears blurred my already-fuzzy vision further, and I whimpered as someone picked me up.

"There, there, Mistress Catskin. All will be well in time, all will be well." A hand softly stroked my matted hair. "No more tears, no more fears, only happy smiles from here!" The lilting voice turned my head for the briefest of moments, but it was too painful to hold my head that way for very long.

I mumbled something, and then surrendered myself to the arms that cradled me.

**Author's Note**: Another chapter! Awesome! I hope you like it…I like it. I like the next chapter even better, so far, because an absolutely adorable new character makes a debut! Enough from me…please remember to review and I will love you forever and a day! )

**Second Note…**This was going to be on time. Really. But then, refused to let me upload it, so I didn't get to it. And then I got sick and spent the better part of the week sleeping (upwards of fifteen hours a day…ugh.) So sorry about the wait, and I hope you can forgive me!


	8. Spoiled Milk

**Warnings:** Very flamboyant characters may rupture your spleen.

**Chapter Eight:** Spoiled Milk

"Catskin! You're awake!" The merry voice shocked me almost as much as the lingering pain in my back.

"I am." I groaned as I felt the scabs on my back protest my movement.

"Don't move," the unknown voice cautioned too late. "You'll only make it bleed." I moaned vaguely in response, and my savior laughed. "Silly Catskin, thought she could get away with standing up to everyone. Silly, silly kitty!"

I began to wonder about the person who kept me; I couldn't tell if it were a man or a woman, for the voice was an androgynous one, and I hadn't gotten a good look at a face yet. "Who're you?" I managed to say, lifting my head only high enough not to obstruct my words.

"Livingston." He answered me cheerfully. "Livingston fa Cattalo."

I knew the name, though my muddle mind would not tell me from where. "Thank you, Livingston." His helping hands lifted me upright, very carefully avoiding what was left of my back. "Oh, the room is _spinning_." My hand went to my head, and I tried to make everything stop moving.

"It'll stop, right enough." Livingston rested a hand on my head. "I took the liberty of washing your hair, dear Catskin. It was rather…foul." A sensuous mouth mirrored his distaste. "Really, you should try harder."

I gaped at him. What was I to make of this foolish man? Or was he yet a boy? "Good sir, I can't believe you're telling me this…but I do thank you. For everything." He was quite mollified by that, and I smiled awkwardly. "Why'd you help me?"

"Someone's got to help the wretches, the loveless. Someone's got to do the things that no one else will." He grinned, "And you, Mistress Catskin, as they call you, are one of the most wretched and loveless creatures that I have ever seen!" Livingston pronounced this almost proudly.

"Thank you, again." I smiled thinly. "How soon am I expected to work again?" I rubbed my chafed fingertips together under the covers, wondering how long of a respite I would have.

"Tomorrow, m'dear, tomorrow!" Livingston delicately settled himself beside me on the small pallet. "But worry not, your thick skin will most certainly protect you."

I gasped. My cloak! "Where is it?" I demanded frantically.

"Remember, worry not my dear, for it is right over here." From some dark corner, he produced my catskin, that which had earned me my name.

I sighed in relief; without my catskin, I would be vulnerable to the eyes and blows of all. "I am yet further in your debt."

"Oh, I know." That mouth of his graced me with an even wider smile. "You'll make it up one day, I'm sure."

"A thousand times over, I will!" I promised him fiercely, clinging once more to my dream of Daryan's love.

"Of course." Livingston laughed gently. "But now, it's time for more of my special salve. I made it just for you, you know. You should feel special. No one's been this bad in quite some time." His slender fingers encouraged me to roll onto my stomach. "Here, hang on a moment, this might sting…"

The agony in my back lasted for a full week; after that, it settled into a constant, but sometimes ignorable, pain. I returned to Livingston's rooms several times in the course of my recovery, and while there, we became tentative friends.

"Catskin, Catskin," he'd sing at me, "What a strange name, worn by such a strange girl!" I would only laugh at him, thankful for even so odd an ally as this man. I grew to appreciate him more and more as we became closer and closer confidantes.

"Livingston," I said idly, just trying to get his attention, "Do you know Lucia?"

"Aye!" He crowed, his dark brows arching higher. "I know the lazy wench, what of her?"

I was as bad as Lucia, sometimes. "Did you know," I began, savoring the deliciously damning words in my mouth, "That she is sleeping with Gerand al Monteville?"

Livingston was properly scandalized, as I hoped he'd be. "No! You're not serious! He's betrothal was broken only a monthSara says1 ago!" He clutched my hands tightly, making sure I couldn't run away before giving him the full story. "Tell me everything."

I was rather stunned by the length of time that had passed since Ulga had left me at this wretched place, telling me I would be safe here. Quickly, though, I regained my composure, reassuring myself that I would be out of here, or at least the kitchens, soon. "Yes, that night when all the dishes broke, she told me. I remember that much, at least." I grinned. "He buys her lots of things, too. That's where she gets all those pretty ribbons." That foolish girl could have had so much more, if only she had known how to ask!

"Should we tell Mistress Taggart?" Livingston grinned mischievously. "I think we should. Lucia would get in ever so much trouble!" He clapped his hands merrily. "I shall go to her now, at once, whilst the news is still fresh!" And before I could protest, he had darted off like a dragonfly, faster than my grasping hands could catch.

"Livingston! Stop!" I laughed as he ran, though. His glee at having something to pin on Lucia, who often ruined the fine cakes he decorated with a careless swipe of a finger, was contagious. "Fine, don't stop! But don't you dare bring me into this!"

"No worries, Catskin!" He waved to me from the doorway of his room. "Wait for me?"

"Can't," I declined sadly. "King and Queen are having one of their wonderful galas tonight, and I'm on dishwashing duty." I found it easier now to slip into the less formal cant of the working class; my delicate phraseology and artful turn-of-phrase that Ulga had so painstakingly beat into me showed their faces less and less in my daily speech.

_Ulga_.

I hadn't seen her for a month! I couldn't believe it- the one woman who was like a mother to me, whom I had spent almost every single day with, had been nowhere near me in the past month. I felt an emptiness gape open in the space below my heart. It was like being hungry, but worse, since there was no food that could fill it.

Had she really left me here to fade away into nothing? Had she left me here to rot while she went on to train another unsuspecting girl into a puppet of a woman? Would she view me as a tainted piece of her past, something to be shoved out of sight?

A tear skidded down my cheek.

I had willingly given up a secure future so as to capture the love and one true desire of my heart. I had done it with the help of one I had trusted above all others, and now, even she had betrayed me.

Such was the folly of the naïve.

Slowly, I rose from the mattress where I had lounged. Livingston wouldn't expect me here when he returned, and I did have work to do.

My hands burned from the harsh soap used to scour the dishes. I winced as I plunged them in again, swiping around blindly for a dish to wash. Lucia stood across from me, looking miserable. I found some small satisfaction in the fact that my words to Livingston had some effect; earlier in the day, Lucia had been soundly beaten for breaking curfew and stealing trifles from the gentry.

"What are you smiling at, Catskin?" Lucia sneered halfheartedly. It must be hard to be mean when you can barely see out of one eye.

"Nothing." I reached up to shove the sleeves of my cloak higher on my arms. "Just enjoying my work."

"Liar."

"Not so, Lucia." I flicked a bit of soap in her direction. "I think you have some dirt on your face."

I grinned as she glared at me.

"It's right near your eye. You might want to wash better next time." Suddenly, I was soaking wet and being pelted with dishes that slid toward me in the deluge of water. "What'd you dump the tub for?" I spluttered. "We weren't done! There were still dishes in there!"

Lucia snarled, "You needed a bath."

As I stood up, I realized my mistake. My realization was accompanied by the sounds of shattering porcelain. "Oh for the love of the Saints!" I stared around me in horror. There I was again, surrounded by broken crockery.

"Catskin! Lucia!"

We both winced as Mistress Taggart stalked toward us, angrier than ever. Her usual attitude of mild irritation was obviously now up to wild fury, leaving us both prey to only the Saints knew what punishment she could invent. Hell hath no fury like Mistress Taggart.

"It was all her fault!" Lucia looked as if she were about to burst into tears. "She tried to attack me over the tub, and she tipped it over! I didn't do anything- anything!"

"I did no such thing! She pushed it at me!" My fur mantle was sopping and weighed heavily on my shoulders. "It wasn't my fault, Lucia did it."

"Silence, the both of you." Mistress Taggart looked at both of us in turn. "You will learn to work together, or you shan't eat but one meal per day. Do you understand me?" She glared at us. "You will start by picking up every single piece of broken crockery, making sure that there is nothing left on the floor. After you are done that, put clean water in all the wash tubs. If you finish that by tonight, then you will report to me and get your further tasks. If you do not finish by tonight, you will continue into the morning until you are done. Tomorrow, you will receive further punishments." She folded her arms, tolerant of no arguments.

"Yes, Mistress Taggart," Lucia said softy at once. "I will do exactly as you ask."

The cold gaze turned on me.

I bent down and began to pick up the pieces.

**Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long, but I had mono, which, for those of you who don't know, makes you sleep a ridiculous amount and become generally lethargic. Don't ever get it if you can help it. My only consolation for the two weeks of summer vacation wasted is that my ex-boyfriend also has mono and he seems even more miserable than I am. Heh, I'm kind of mean about it, but oh well. I think he deserved it.

Anyway, the chapter is up, and tomorrow, I shall be on a plane heading off for a week of vacation! Unfortunately for you guys, this means that there probably won't be another chapter until the end of July, even August, maybe, because the day after I get back from vacation, I go directly to a week long college writing course. This course was a big meanie pants and said I couldn't bring any fantasy to the table (after I applied, of course), so I had to write (well, still have to write…) and entirely new, realistic fiction piece for them. Like I said, meanie pants.

I am especially verbose tonight, but I'm not entirely sure why. But no matter the reason! Thank you for reviewing (I think I got to everyone…if I didn't, I'm so sorry!), and make sure to review again, because I love, love, love reviews. And I will adore you forever and ever amen.

The End!

* * *

Sara says1It is now almost September…end of August 


	9. Butter and Salt

**Warnings:** Sudden career changes may result in fainting, dizziness or nausea. Please see a doctor if these symptoms continue for more than four seconds.

**Chapter Nine:** Butter and Salt

The next day, both Lucia and I suffered at the hand of the head cook. He beat us like he did his eggs- hard. I found some small satisfaction that this time Lucia was paying for her crime, but it was fleeting in the face of so much pain.

Once more as I collapsed, insensible and sobbing, Livingston gently picked me up and carried me to his little room, and cared for me through the night.

"Catskin, Catskin, doesn't have a thick skin," he murmured as he peeled off the bloodied skin of my back. "You must stop Lucia, my dear one, else she will score your skin deeper and deeper with each cut."

"Livingston," I mumbled into his sheets. "Shut up." I groaned as an attached piece of skin was suddenly unattached.

"As you wish, my Sera-dear." Finally, the cool touch of his salve replaced the burning of the cleaning, and I sighed in relief. "But you know I speak true."

I tilted my head sideways so as to better look at him. "You should have been a fool, not a cake decorator."

"Perhaps I am both." He smiled sadly. "But perhaps you are right. My decorations pale in comparison to the masters'." Then he brightened. "If I am a fool, though, then I should make you laugh. Can I at least do that?"

I smiled wanly. "Try."

He pulled an ugly face. "How was that?"

I sighed. "You can do better than that."

"Fine." Livingston tossed his dark hair out of his eyes and grinned. "I'll tell you a funny story."

"Whatever you wish," I said, shrugging.

"I wish this!" He decreed gallantly. "Now, let's see. There once was a King who decided that all maids in the land should wear blue, and all the lads should wear pink."

Laughing, I stopped him. "Livingston, that will be the most absurd tale ever. If you tell it, I would surely rip myself in two, just from laughing."

He looked at me oddly, then, his eyes questioning. "You speak strangely, Catskin. You talk like one of the highborn, the gentry. But only sometimes."

I chucked nervously. "You speak oddly at times, too, you know, with your rhymes and silly couplets. How am I strange compared to that?"

"Catskin, you yourself are strange," Livingston replied with an air of finality. "I cannot even fathom myself as strange as you!"

I had to laugh at that. "Indeed, my friend." I stroked my dirty cloak of cats' skins, which was lying next to me on his pallet. "You could only dream of honor such as this."

"Ah, honor!" Livingston struck a pose, one elegant hand over his heart, the other extended as if to some unseen lady. "It was once a word of power!" He sighed. "But no more. Honor now is no more than a hidden dream, a forgotten idea of a past civilization. Great knights would ride out in battle for nothing more than honor, you know. They would sacrifice all for that elusive damsel in distress!" He stopped, then, and looked over at me. "How am I doing?"

"You should have been a storyteller!" I smiled; storytellers had long been some of my favorite entertainment. They could transport me to other lands when I was bored with their expressive words and expansive gestures. Mother had liked them too, and had made sure that whenever she was in residence, so was a storyteller.

That life seemed so far away now, so like a story.

Livingston looked ponderous. "Perhaps," he began slowly, "I should have been." Lightly, he folded himself next to me. "I shall tell you a story, then," he pronounced solemnly.

"Tell a good one, this time."

"How does it start?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I don't know. You're the storyteller. You start it."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "I'm going to put the bandages on now." He picked up the strips of linen that had been folded neatly.

"That's not the way it starts!"

"Well you start it then, Queen Catskin!"

I wondered idly if he knew of my obsession with Daryan, but then dismissed it. "I'll be quiet. Tell me a story?"

"Fine." His hands were careful as they pressed the linen into the mess that now constituted my back. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young lady. She was the most beautiful thing that ever there was, and wealthy to boot. Her family had old money, which they invested well." Livingston paused to lift me up, wrapping the longer bandages around my entire torso to hold the smaller ones in place. "Though all seemed well with the world, our beauty was not happy; in fact, she was miserable. Scorned by her father and abandoned by her mother, she was being bartered off into a marriage that she didn't want."

I snorted derisively then, interrupting him rudely. "That sounds like just about every story that ever there was."

"Correction: it sounds like every good story that ever there was. This is what people want to hear!" Livingston's mouth split into a wide, white grin. "Now shut up so I can be a storyteller." When I didn't say anything, he continued. "Now this young lady, on the night of her engagement party, snuck off into the shadows with a handsome young man who was most certainly not her betrothed. In fact, she barely knew this young man, though he had watched her for some time."

I frowned. This story of his was sounding far too familiar.

"There in the shadows of the night, our young lady found love for the first time in her life, as her lips met with those of her mysterious stranger. But all too soon she was whisked back to her masque, where she danced the night away with her betrothed, all the while watching her beloved."

Once more, I interrupted him. "And then, I'm sure she ran away with this mysterious stranger and they lived happily ever after, right?" My voice was too acidic, too angry to be justified by mere boredom with the same old tale. I hoped Livingston didn't notice.

His black eyes met mine in a quick, guilty glance of knowing more than what was told. "No, Catskin, they didn't. He never saw her again after that night. Soon enough, he forgot about her, and she about him, though somewhere, deep in their hearts, they remembered quietly. Our precious girl cried on her wedding day, but the tears stopped there. She raised her children and grew into a comfortable old age, living off of her husband's wealth. She wasn't truly happy, but she wasn't as sorrowful as she'd thought she'd be. Every now and then, she'd think of a night, long ago, when a mysterious young man stole her heart and her kisses, but then she'd dismiss it as merely a dream, nothing more." Livingston sighed. "And that, my dear Catskin, is the end."

I had relaxed throughout the rest of his story. Naturally I was paranoid about anyone finding my true identity, but I had nothing to fear from Livingston. I was simply making things up; the look he had given me was just a look, not filled with hidden meaning.

I smiled. "That was an excellent story." Despite all of my rationalization, I still couldn't resist asking, "However did you think it up?"

"Oh," he said, waving a hand, "One of my friends told me about a night he had at one of the gentry's parties. It was similar to that." Livingston smiled. "I wonder what it'd be like to go to one of those parties! All I ever get to do is decorate the delicacies."

"Terrifying," I informed him, not thinking. "Those things are absolutely terrifying. Think of it! All of those people are there, just to watch you waltz around the room and judge you." Suddenly, I realized just what kind of words were pouring out of my mouth. "At least, that's what my cousin's aunt said one time. She said she heard one of the highborn Seras talking about it." I rushed through the last sentences, hurriedly trying to dissociate myself from the masques. "Yes, that's it."

"Sometimes," Livingston said, stroking his clean-shaven face, "I do think you may be hiding something from me, Catskin."

"Could I ever hide anything from you?" I asked him ingenuously.

Livingston shrugged. "Of course; you hide your life from me daily." He was so abruptly serious.

"You are curious?"

"Naturally." He let himself sink backwards so that he rested against the wall. "But you are an enigma, and I cannot figure you at all. I just wonder."

"Did you ever think of asking?" I slowly drew myself up, careful to keep his blankets tucked securely around my front.

"Not that you would tell me anything," He said with a snort.

I grinned. "That's not the point."

"Well, then why bother asking?" Livingston did have a point.

"For the sake of asking, of course," I replied. "How will you ever know anything if you never ask? Is it not written that if you seek, you shall find?"

My friend looked askance at me, then, and wondered aloud, "Where did you come up with that? It sounds like something out of the gentry's dogma."

I frowned, worried. "I learned it some time ago, when I was younger. I have always accepted it to be truth."

"But where did you learn it from?" Livingston pressed onward, delving for information.

"I learned it from my…mother." It was strange to call Ulga mother, as she was neither blood relation nor loving to me anymore, but she had been the one to teach me the faith that I carried with me. Weak though it was, the strange code of belief that I had adopted and modified to suit my purposes had sustained me through most of the hardships of my life. It was an alien idea to me that my only ally now knew of no such thing.

"What was your mother like?"

I sat in brooding silence for a moment. "She was indulgent. I do believe she spoiled me. I suppose she loved me."

Livingston's hand reached out to touch mine softly, and I felt myself get lost in the compassion in his eyes. "She's dead now, isn't she?"

My mind reeled for a moment, trying to ascertain how death fit in with my mother, who was still quite alive, as far as I knew. In the end, I found it easier just to agree with Livingston. "Years ago," I lied, fabricating my past in a moment's thought.

"Poor, lonely Catskin," Livingston murmured, giving my hand a squeeze. "But you aren't alone now!" He declared forcefully. "I, you first companion and staunchest ally, will stand by your side no matter what." He took my other hand, his seriousness turned into delighted excitement. "We, my loveless Catskin, will watch over each other until the end of our days or our internment in this kitchen, whichever comes first."

I giggled. "And you will tell me stories and I will break your dishes!" It all seemed so perfect, so idyllic.

But it was not the life I wanted for myself. One day, I would have Daryan's love, and we would rule Tännon together, and I would never have to work in the wretched kitchens again. I would be a lady, I would be Kelryian again, instead of the hideous Catskin. I would no longer be Livingston's loveless Catskin, but Daryan's beloved Kelry- Tännon's beloved Kelry. Of course I would carry Livingston with me on my ascendance to royal glory, but I would never be content with a life in the kitchens.

"Catskin, tell me something." Livingston's fingers brushed along my jawbone. "What do you think of when you get that look on your face?"

Frowning, I asked, "What look?"

"Beatific; you look so determinedly euphoric that I don't know what to make of it." He drew himself nearer to me. "What is it that you think of then, or whom?"

My lips formed a vaguely smile-shaped curve, but I said nothing. It was silly for kitchen scullions to dream of princes.

"I suspect," Livingston deduced with a ridiculous accent, "That the euphoric look the young Sera wears on her face was caused by thoughts of a man, but which one?"

I blushed a furious shade of fuchsia as he laughed. "It's none of your business!"

"Is it Jerauld, our most beloved cook?" Livingston smirked, "No, I bet it's Stanislaus the midden-boy. Does he kiss you in the slops?" Suddenly, he gasped, as if hit by sudden realization. "I know! It's Ser Gerand, the highborn who's been sleeping with our darling Lucia!"

I smacked him. Hard.

"It is Ser Gerand al Monteville! I knew it! I knew you fancied the highborn! Or no, wait!" The cake decorator's face was almost glowing. "You've fallen in love with another woman, perhaps our own Mistress Taggart?"

I hit him again, this time harder.

"I'll take that as a no, then." He calmed slightly in the few breaths before he next spoke. "No, I think it is a man indeed, but what man would be worthy of the love of Catskin?" Livingston pondered this for several moments. "I think that no one but the King himself will do for you, my girl. But," he continued, considered some more, "Since our dearly beloved King Erath is far, far older than you, perhaps his son would be more suitable."

I said nothing, only held my breath and waited.

"Oh dear," Livingston finally managed. "Oh dear indeed."

Eventually, I dared to break the silence. "Don't tell anyone?"

His laugh was slightly hysterical, but I pretended not to notice. "Who would I tell? Shall I saunter up to Prince Daryan and present you to him, and expect him to fall madly in love with you the moment he sees you?"

Yes.

"No! Of course not," I hedged, drawing his blanket closer to my chin. "I am…content to watch him from afar."

"Liar."

Yes.

"No!" Glaring at him, I asked, "Don't you believe me?"

"No!" Livingston leaned in close so that it was incredibly hard for me to avoid looking at any part of him. "You will not be content, because in your silly, girlish love for him, you will want him more than anything you've ever wanted before and-"

"I know!" I moaned. "I know already. The first time I saw him I wanted to seduce him right where he stood."

"You did not!" Livingston was positively scandalized.

I relented. "You're right. The first time I saw him I was absolutely unaware that in a few moments, I would be in love. Then I wanted him."

Livingston was wide eyed in wonderment. "You little harlot!" He exclaimed happily. "But," he reminded me, "Back to the problem at hand. You will not be content to watch from afar. I know it. Do I have to watch over you to make sure you don't do anything stupid?"

"When do I ever leave the kitchens?" I inquired sardonically. "When does Prince Daryan," and here, I was breathless, "Ever deign to visit the kitchens?"

My friend and now confidante shrugged. "But on the off chance that either of those things should happen, must I protect you from the wiles of amoral men?"

"Protect me from _what_?" I asked, laughing. "Amoral men? Who is amoral, Livingston? Certainly not Daryan; he's a Prince val Tännon, he of all people is schooled in moral rectitude from the moment he was born. Undoubtedly he follows such a code as befits his station!" I laughed again the sheer absurdity of Livingston's proposition. Daryan was nothing less than the epitome of a Prince, and something every man should strive for!

Livingston stared at me in completely silent shock. By the time his sputtering mouth had gotten control of his tongue, he had gone as pale as icing. "You are so naïve, Catskin, so very, very naïve."

I sighed. "I know. I have been told so many times." I curled up against him, then, which shocked me as much as it shocked him. "Watch out for me, Livingston, for I will need it."

**Author's Note**: Hah! I did get a chapter done! Of course…it was in the time technically allotted for writing the thing for next week…but I don't care. I still have three days! (Three and a half, if the drive out there counts!) I enjoyed writing this chapter immensely, and I hope you enjoyed it as well. I do, however, apologize for the sudden shot of religion. I've been reading Sharon Shinn's Samaria novels, and they are highly religious, ergo Kelry gets religion too.

To those who reviewed: I love and appreciate you very, very much. Please do so again! XD

To those who haven't reviewed: Why not? Tell me what you think! Feedback is what I crave above all things, even more than chocolate and pony rides! Even if you don't have an account, leave an e-mail and I will be more than happy to respond to you that way. :)


	10. Fresh Peaches

**Warnings:** This should probably have a PG-13 rating on it, seriously. Just so you know…a real warning this time.

You asked for Daryan, and so you got him.

**Chapter Ten**: Fresh Peaches

The next morning came far too early; I closed my eyes tightly against the light, trying desperately to savor the last moments of thinking that I was still in my old life. Since that only worked so long as no one was kicking me, and since I was fairly certain that if I didn't get up soon someone would be kicking me, I forced myself to a state of wakefulness.

I groaned as my cats' skins dragged painfully across my back. What a wonderful morning wake up! The rest of the day wasn't much better; Mistress Taggart was still quite furious and Lucia wasn't much nicer. By evening, I was more miserable than I had been in my entire stay. Not only was I in pain, but I felt deserted and unloved as well; I had not seen Livingston once that day, and no one else had bothered to cheer the hapless Catskin up.

Hurriedly gulping down my dinner of leftovers, I prepared myself for a night of hard work. The King was throwing yet another banquet, this time in honor of the foreign emissaries who had only recently arrived from far-away Althorn.

"I don't understand why every single member of their stinking foreign entourages must have their own place at the high table," Katy whined. "It's not like we get to sit up there, too."

"It really isn't fair," Lucia commiserated. "One day, Katy, we'll be up there."

I snorted softly. "Of course you will."

"I will! Just you watch!" Lucia sullenly glared at me. "It's not like you'll be anywhere up there." When I remained silent, she burst out in shrieking giggles. "So our very own Catskin thinks she's a lady, does she? Katy, did you hear that? Catskin, who could no more attract a man than the dishes could wash themselves, think she's going to marry into the gentry and sit at banquet!"

Katy echoed Lucia's malicious laughter. "She'll be up there in her grime, dropping bugs in the soup and shedding on the fine gowns of every other respectable lady!" She grinned nastily. "It's preposterous!"

"Not really," I mused in as neutral a voice as I could manage. "It's no more preposterous than thinking that Ser al Monteville will marry Lucia and take her to court." I had long ago mastered the art of smiling serenely even when I wanted to break something.

"I've got more chance than you'll ever have," Lucia retorted, not missing a beat in her assured superiority. "You'd just be a dirty little slut, putting out for whatever poor bastard would take you."

"And you're just a slightly cleaner slut." I couldn't help the satisfied grin that crept to my lips at her expression.

Katy broke the momentary silence. "At least she bathes…" She shrugged. "You don't seem to."

Lucia went from horrified to furious in a heartbeat. "Katy! You're supposed to be with me!" Her brow furrowed angrily. "I hate you! Both of you!"

I risked a glance at Katy during the ensuing silence. She was watching Lucia sadly, with great big brown bovine eyes. Katy didn't do anything to reconcile herself with Lucia, only sat there and watched her. It was strange.

"Lucia?" Katy finally whispered. "Luci, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Please don't hate me."

Lucia looked up, completely aware that I was watching. "Oh, Katy, I don't think I could ever hate you!" She launched herself at the other girl. "You're my best friend in the entire world! Of course you can still be my friend."

So intent was I on watching this sickly saccharine scene that I was completely oblivious to the visitor to the kitchen. Lucia, however, was not.

"Oh!" She swept an obsequious curtsey. "Your Highness! I hadn't realized that you had come in!" Katy quickly followed suit, murmuring pleasantries that no one could understand.

"Hello," Prince Daryan said casually.

Oh, for the love of the Saints. It was _Daryan_. Here. In the _kitchen_ of all places. I nearly fainted from shock.

"My dearest Prince, how may I serve you?" I saw Lucia look up at Daryan- my beloved Daryan- through her eyelashes and I felt the sudden urge to capture his attention and get it away from her.

"I can help you!" I offered, interjecting myself awkwardly into the conversation.

"Who…What are you?" Daryan raised one eyebrow delicately. It was such a perfect motion.

"I'm Kel- Catskin, your Highness." My voice deserted me and I squeaked out the last syllables.

"Oh. You're rather…unique." He turned back to Lucia. "Get me something to drink, dear girl. Run along." I fairly preened under his labeling of me as unique. He thought I was special!

"Katy," Lucia ordered, "Go fetch Prince Daryan some wine, will you? And not the swill they usually serve." She smiled daintily. "Thank you, dearest," Lucia called after Katy.

I watched jealously as Daryan bestowed a gracious smile on Lucia. I wondered if she even knew how luck she was! Probably not, considering that she thought every man should desire her, no matter what.

"Your highness," I shuffled forwards, walking as best I could while curtseying, "I must warn you about Lucia, here. She's only looking to advance her position- she's socially voracious and…" I trailed off as the sound of Daryan's laughter replaced my voice.

"Cat-stink, or whatever your name is, don't worry your little head over my well being. I am well aware of all of dear Lucia's tricks; she and I have been acquainted for quite some time." My darling Prince reached out a slender finger to touch the sensitive skin of Lucia's throat. "I know all there is to know about little Lucia." His eyes raked her from head to toe, sparing no modesties. "Indeed, I do." Daryan chuckled, observing my look of disgusted fascination. "I know how she loves beautiful gifts, and how when she wants something, she will do anything- anything- to get it."

Lucia's eyes flew open, sending her look of ecstasy flying away. "Your highness- is this…" She swallowed as his fingertips grazed the lines of her collarbone. "Please," she whispered.

"I know," Daryan continued, his eyes following his hand, "That little Lucia is not such a little girl anymore, and I know that she wants to have her breath catch in her throat whenever I touch her." Lucia gave a strangled sob as the royal hand closed in about her throat. "I know that she loves to have control, and so I take it from her."

"Daryan- prince- beloved," I whispered, reaching out towards him, sickly wishing that he would look at me the way he was looking at Lucia. I was as repulsed as I was drawn to him, both aroused and revolted by this strange display.

"What?" He turned that intense grey stare on me. "Is this creature thinking that she should worship me?"

I sank slowly to the floor. "I am sorry if I have offended you." I bowed my head, until I felt warm fingers prying it upwards. "My prince?"

He smiled, a twisting of lips so delightful to watch that I couldn't help but smile in response, "No, it is right that you should bow before me. You sad, pathetic creature, I pity you. You have no one else to love, so you must love me."

My tongue moved of its own volition, pressing out the words, "Oh, I do." As I gazed lovingly into his eyes, feeling the heat of his skin on mine, I saw the confirmation of all my hopes; Daryan was watching me with such emotion that I was sure it was love.

"Your Highness, I've brought you your…wine…" Katy hastily curtseyed, a look of abject confusion on her face.

"Good." His attention suddenly ripped away from me, Daryan turned and snatched the goblet, spilling some of the deeply colored liquid onto me. I flinched away, and he laughed.

I glanced up at him, rather hurt.

"Oh, the poor creature," Lucia cooed, glaring at me with an expression that might kill small animals at close range. "You've spilled something on her."

He smiled. "Perhaps it will help to wash away some of the dirt."

"Perhaps it will, but you know, there's a lot of dirt on her." Lucia smiled sweetly up at Daryan from where she still knelt on the floor.

"Of course there is, Lucia. There is always some fatal flaw, an exploited weakness, which makes even the greatest kings fall." His flushed lips curved around the lip of the glass, revealing hints of white teeth and a pink tongue. "If dirt is this creature's flaw, her Achilles heel, then what does that make your vindictive pride? At least dirt is physical, and can be washed off, but what of character flaws?" Daryan seemed to be musing more to himself than to any of us. Quietly, subtly, so that we were all caught completely unawares, he tipped the entire contents of his goblet over Lucia.

"Your Highness!" She protested, red droplets clinging to her hair and rolling down her cheeks. "What have I done to deserve this? What?" Then, desperately, "Was the wine not to your satisfaction?"

"The wine was fine; it was from my father's stores after all. Thank you for providing me with it." Daryan offered one vaguely conciliatory smile, and then walked away.

As soon as he was gone, Lucia turned on me, that same look she had worn earlier masking her usually beautiful features. "You," she pronounced slowly, carefully, "Are the most horrid, awful, wretched thing that I have ever seen." She went on, elaborating on how terrible I was, even inventing a few new names for me.

When she stopped, I nodded. "Thank you for that, Lucia." My tone was utterly sarcastic. "I hope you don't mind if I return in kind one day."

She sneered, but said nothing to me. "Come, Katy, let's away." Lucia grabbed Katy's arm with one sticky hand and dragged the poor girl away.

I sighed, watching them leave. What a pair they made, fair girls of golden hair and pink, apple cheeks, but one vengeful and the other placid. "Poor Katy," I murmured to myself. "But I really don't think she cares."

Slowly, I got to my feet. I imagined that I could still feel the heat of Daryan's touch under my chin, lifting me upwards. I grinned, giddy exultation rushing through me. Daryan had defended me, even in my present state, against Lucia! He had scoffed at Lucia's obvious advances but had been charmed by my more subtle ones!

As I waltzed through the rest of the night, caring little for the mean and petty hardships, which assaulted my physical state, I entertained daydreams of Daryan, his hands wrapped in mine, his lips melding with mine, his heart one with mine. Granted, my work was sloppy and the dishes left dirty, but I simply didn't care.

Daryan loved me, and I loved him; that was all that mattered.

By the time I collapsed into bed that night, thoroughly exhausted, I was so high on my euphoria that I simply couldn't sleep. I lay there, happy beyond reason, staring at the dark that seemed to stretch forever above me. I knew there was a ceiling up there somewhere, but I wasn't entirely sure where.

So suffused with joy was I that I didn't notice the pains that usually ached; I didn't mind the rocky floor pressing up through my thin pallet. I forgot about the sadness of the past months, the betrayals and the lies; none of that mattered now. Soon, Daryan would return again to our underworld, bringing his princely light to my dungeon, and he would rescue me. He would sweep me up, kiss me, love me, _marry_ me, and we would live happily, in love. I would be restored to my former, highborn glory, and Daryan would be immortalized as the King who saved a beloved Queen- his beloved Queen.

Slowly, every slowly, my eyes closed and I relaxed into sleep.

When I resurfaced in the light of a new false-dawn, I squeezed my eyes shut tight, clutching desperately at the memory of yesterday.

I was almost disappointed that I was still in the kitchens and still fairly filthy. I suppose that in some vain hope, I had dreamed that during the night, I would be whisked away on fairy's wings and made into the Princess that Daryan so desired.

I heard the swish of a foot being drawn back even before I could really identify it. Instinctively, I rolled away, slamming against the wall.

"That's right, Catskin, it's time to get up." Mistress Taggart thumped away from me and on to her next victim.

Reluctantly, I allowed light to seep through my eyes. "Why, morning?" I muttered to myself sleepily. I didn't want to return to the real world. Hauling myself to my feet, I ambled over to the woodpile and grabbed my first load of the day. It would be one of many; I knew from experience. Soon enough, my hands were stinging from the rough bark of the carelessly hewn wood, and I gratefully rid myself of each load when I reached the ovens.

By the time that breakfast was ready, I already ached more than I cared to think of. Gratefully, I sank down against a wall and began shoveling what passed as food into my mouth. When I had first come to the kitchens, I had refused to eat the thin, greasy mixture that was presented to me. I was used to finer things, and this food most certainly did not even qualify as fine to my highborn standards.

I hadn't taken me long to succumb to my hunger; I was used to regular meals, and that seemed far more important to my stomach than fine food. Everyday since then, I had consumed breakfast with little or no complain, resigning myself to this temporary hell.

"Good morning!" Livingston greeted me cheerfully. "How are you, my girl?"

"I'm not yours," I informed him snappishly. If anyone's, I was Daryan's.

His face went from smiling to frowning fluidly. "Well, someone isn't a morning person, is she?"

"No." I shoved a spoonful of breakfast into my mouth so that no more hurtful, unnecessarily cruel words would come out.

"Catskin?" Livingston's spoon hung in the air before his mouth, frozen in the act of conveying food to his mouth.

"What?" I asked, not a little sullenly.

"Bite my head off for breakfast, why don't you?" He finally crammed his breakfast into his mouth, and then talked around it. "Something happened, and you're not telling me what it is."

"You're smart. You can guess." I poked around the globules of food left in my bowl. "Daryan was here last night."

Livingston choked, his eyes widening both in shock and pain. As I punched him hard in the back, he gasped out, "His _royal Highness_ Daryan?"

"Is there another one?" I stared morosely into my lap. I knew there could never be another like Daryan.

"No, I suppose not." Livingston coughed one last time, "What happened?"

So I told him over breakfast. I told him about Lucia, the wine, Katy and Daryan. Above all things, I told him about Daryan. "…And I think he knows who I am, and he loves me," I concluded.

"Why would he know who you are? You're a kitchen girl!" Livingston laughed, pointing out what he thought to be the obvious flaw in my logic.

"That's not…" I sighed. But of course. Livingston didn't know who I really was. "You're right." I scraped the last bit of breakfast into my mouth, once more mourning the loss of my old life.

"You need someone to keep your head out of those clouds," He said fondly, ruffling my hair. "Otherwise you'd be completely lost!"

"Indeed I would be." I smiled, albeit a little morosely. "Thank you." I clambered to my feet, wincing as my bruised hands took a part of my weight. "I'll see you later, Livingston." By now there would be dishes aplenty for me to wash, a mindless chore that allowed me to think of nothing but Daryan. As I settled into the rhythm of scrubbing, my heart beat out a constant rhythm that whispered _Daryan, Daryan._

Livingston had been wrong; I was completely lost already,

**Author's Note**: So I'm sitting in my dorm room, right? And I'm typing the first part of the chapter (the creepy part) and my roommate waltzes in and she's like, "So whatcha writing?" And I was just like...ummm…"A story." It's not like I'm going to tell her that I'm writing about weird boys who like to go around doing oddly sick things to poor little girls.

It was so awkward.

But anyway, writing camp went well! I learned lots (I think), so my writing should improve, or something to that effect. I'm really glad to be home and sleeping in my own comfy bed! Yay!

Just to warn you, updates might be a little slow throughout the entire month of August. I'll do the best I can, but I've got colleges to visit (my mother's idea, not mine), and summer work to finish. I'll write as often as I can, but I can't promise anything. I'll do my best, and please forgive me if I am slow and responding to your reviews or getting a new chapter up.

I love you all,

EvenSong


	11. Oh Snap!

**Warning:** Look before you leap.

**Chapter Eleven**: Oh Snap!

As noonday approached, I felt an inescapable exhaustion wash over me. I yawned unexpectedly, and I hurriedly clapped my soapy hands over my mouth in an effort to be polite. I grimaced with distaste as the bubbles ran in rivulets over my tongues, despising the bitter taste of the soap.

I heard a barely muted giggle as Lucia whispered something to Katy.

I tried my hardest to spit in their direction.

"Dear, that was rude," Lucia informed me prettily. "You should be nice to your superiors."

"My superiors?" I wondered aloud. "I _am_ nice to my superiors." I stifled another yawn.

Lucia huffed noisily. "Silly Catskin!" She glanced at Katy, who looked determinedly indifferent. "You should know that I am your superior- and Katy too!" She smiled. "We have the Prince's favor, you know." She whispered this last confidentially, as if I hadn't been there to see him cast her off.

"Liar," I whispered back, desperately trying to hold back yet another yawn. If I wasn't careful, I was going to fall face first into the tub of suds, and what a rude awakening that would be! "He likes you no more than he likes me." Now I was a liar too. Daryan must like me better- he loved me after all.

"Don't be absurd." Katy suddenly joined our conversation. "His Highness likes Lucia. He doesn't like dirty, smutty creatures though." Her brow furrowed in concentration as Lucia smiled in satisfaction. "He doesn't like you because you _are_ a dirty, smutty creature. Right…" She trailed off with a mumble, letting her eyes drift back down to the glass she held in her hands.

Sometimes I thought she was well on her way to joining Simple Jenny in the ranks of the addled. "I am not dirty!" I defended myself hotly. "Not…that dirty." I scrubbed ineffectually at the dirt that seemed ingrained into my skin.

Lucia snorted, a most improper thing to do. "Don't be stupid. You know it, we know it, everyone else knows it; your filth is an inescapable fact of life." She frowned. "Although I'm not entirely sure why you're always covered in grease; we're surrounded by water and soap day and night! How do you manage never to bathe?" I didn't trust the expression that was slowly conquering Lucia's face.

"Talent?" I gently placed the plate I had been washing back into the soapy water. I didn't want to be personally responsible for breaking it.

"Katy," the blonde vixen mused aloud, "I think we should give this cat a bath."

"But cats don't like water," Katy pointed out. "I don't want to give a cat a bath. I tried it once," she informed us solemnly. "It didn't go well at all! There was water _everywhere_." She smiled vacuously. "I don't want to."

As I stared at her in curiosity, I felt something latch onto and tug my catskin cloak. "No!" I managed to squeak out, before being submerged. Surfacing, with water cascading in front of my eyes, I glared angrily at Lucia. She smiled smugly.

"Catskin!"

I cringed; Mistress Taggart was not the person I wanted to see right now.

"What do you think you're doing?" I peered over the rim of the tub. "Every day it's something new! You're more trouble than you're worth, sometimes."

"Mistress Taggart!" I spluttered frantically, clutching the wooden edge, "I promise you, I promise I won't do anything bad, anything wrong! I promise."

The older woman snorted, a horse-like sound that suited her narrow features. "I doubt that. Get out of that water and get more. You've wasted enough of my time as it is." Mistress Taggart snatched my chin in her rough hands and forced me to look at her, instead of staring awkwardly at my hands. "That is your last task for us, Catskin."

My mouth dropped open in shock as soon as she let go, my mouth futilely trying to utter protest. Finally, I collected enough words to put them in some sort of order. "But Mistress Taggart! I have no place else to go! Please, please, don't send me away. Please!" I clambered out of the tub, sending water flying across the floor. Hastily, I shed the catskin cloak, hating it in that moment for weighing me down. "Mistress Taggart, please!"

"You," She snarled, turning, "No longer belong to this kitchen. Find work elsewhere."

I hated myself for begging, but I clutched her shoulders helplessly, sobbing, "You can't, you can't! Please, don't! Give me another chance!"

"I've given you more than enough chances," Mistress Taggart hissed. "I would not have hired you save for the recommendation you got from Sera Ulga fa Rellen, but how you got that, I don't know." Easily, she dislodged my hands from her shoulders. "Now go get water."

For a brief moment, I staggered as she denied me the support of her shoulders. Regaining my feet, I trudged to the well, bucket in hand, to begin the long task of refilling the basin. I fell into a rhythm hauling the water; with each step, each beat of my pulse, the water would slosh onto my feet. Even in the slight chill of the encroaching winter could not bother me. I passed the catskin cloak numerous times, each time reviling it for what it was- a small, paltry replacement for a life of security. That cloak represented the dreams that no longer seemed possible; if I couldn't work in the kitchens, how could I ever see Daryan? Surely he would never find me in the mess of the city, and almost surely he would never look. He would be far too busy with affairs of state and such.

Everything seemed hopeless now; not only had I given up the life I had known in exchange for four useless and impractical gifts, I had just lost the dreams that I had sacrificed so much for. My tears cut stark paths through the soap scum and dirt that still slicked my face.

Dusk found me in Livingston's room, waiting for him to return from his decorating duties. I wasn't quite sure what to tell him, but I knew I wanted some sympathy. I curled in on myself, clutching the catskins to my chest, and sniffling softly every so often.

At long last, the door opened, and I felt a cool wash of night air slip over me. "Livingston!" I cried, launching myself at him. "Sweet Madonna, I don't know what to do!" I buried my head in his chest, my breath coming in awkward sobs.

"Miss?"

The top of my head cracked into a very solid jaw and I flew backwards. "Who in all hells are you?" I asked suspiciously. I studied this new man cautiously, idly noting that something about him was vaguely familiar, but then again, everyone seemed familiar and yet a stranger to me at times.

As he spoke, his dark eyes trained on me, I felt the blood slowly leave my face. "I am Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo. Who, may I ask, are you?"

My lips tried to form words, but they were too busy remembering the feel of his pressed against them.

"I know you speak, girl. Don't be frightened of me, I promise I won't hurt you." He seemed truly worried that he had terrified me witless. "What are you called?"

Finally, I mumbled, "Catskin." As he tilted my head upwards with his fingertips, I repeated, louder, "I am called Catskin."

"That's no name for a girl, or any child!" He scoffed, trying too hard to make me feel comfortable in his presence. "You should have a name to match who you are."

"Good Ser, my name does match who I am," I offered softly, "For cats' skins are what I wear." The catskin cloak was proffered as proof. "See, good Ser, the cats' skins for which I am named."

"I see." Ser Thomhas brushed his fingers lightly against the fur. "Cats' skins…what an unusual idea."

For a moment, I had trusted him, but I feared now that I might have given away too much about who I was. Even though Gerand had silenced much of the details surrounding the period of our engagement, and especially about the night I absconded with his gifts, I wasn't entirely safe. There had been guests at all of the banquets where the gifts were presented to me…was Ser Thomhas one of them?

"Tell me, Catskin," Thomhas said, smoothly changing topic, "Do you know where Livingston is? I need to speak to him on a matter of some import." Amusement played about his lips, shaping them into and almost-smile.

"If I knew where Livingston was, I wouldn't be here." I watched him carefully. How much did he know?

"Ah. I see." Ser Thomhas rubbed his jaw, and I felt sorry for hurting him. "I had mistaken you for another, I suppose."

So Thomhas believed me to be someone else; I almost sighed in relief. At least he hadn't recognized me for who I truly was. "Perhaps."

After several silent moments, he said, "So, you and Livingston are living together?"

"No!" I protested defensively. "No, I just come here whenever I um…need him." My fingers were twined together tightly, making the knuckles fade into white. "Like now." I couldn't help but remember the last time I had seen him, and how I had been made such a fool.

"Oh?" His gaze sidled over to me mine. "What can this acquaintance of mine do for you?"

"Feed me dinner, I hope," I groused without thinking. "I'll not be getting any tonight, that's for sure." I had never known how unhappy the serving class was with the gentry; when I had first come into Mistress Taggart's harsh tutelage in the ways of the kitchen, the first thing I learned was to always smile at the highborn.

I had to admit, I was surprised when Ser Thomhas looked genuinely concerned. "Here," he said, reaching into his shirtwaist, "Make sure you eat tonight." In his outstretched hand rested five lira, a copper sheen beneath the aged coat of green rust. "This should be enough."

I wanted desperately to snatch them up and secret them away, but my inner self- my old self- hated to do it. I was highborn; I shouldn't have to rely on the charity of my peers! If anything, I should be the one giving lira and florin away! My hand started to leap forward, but then I caught myself. "I…shouldn't," I mumbled, ashamed.

"Catskin? You need to eat, girl. It's a necessity of life." Ser Thomhas closed his hand over the lira and I whimpered in contradictory protest. "I know you want to take it," he said, trying to ensnare me with his levity.

"Ser, it wouldn't be right for me to accept your gift. You are highborn and I am…I am…not." I despised myself for the lie.

"It matters not that I am born in the high courts and you in the low! I am offering you free comfort- a full stomach. Take it, not as charity, but as a- a- gift, from one being to another." He grasped my hand with his gloved one and turned it palm-side up. "A gift," he repeated, pressing the lira into my soft flesh.

"Thank you," I murmured, my cheeks aflame. I could feel the highborn side of myself slipping away with every new happening; I was taken further and further from the life I had so diligently learned and thrust ever faster into the life I had chosen.

Ser Thomhas smiled. "There. Not so hard, now, was it?"

He didn't know the half of it.

"Catskin!" I whirled around as Livingston called my name. "Ser Thomhas." He greeted the gentleman with a quickly sketched bow.

"Livingston, have you heard?"

His face instantly sobered. "I have, my friend." Livingston's eyes were worried, though he smiled. "But you must wait a moment for me while I talk to Thomhas."

"If you wish," I mumbled, hurt that Livingston would choose the highborn over me. It was odd not to think of myself as highborn or gentry, but I wasn't. I had worked too hard, seen too much; I couldn't go back to that lifestyle again, no matter how I might wish it. Carefully schooling my face into an innocuous expression, I tried to hear what Livingston and Ser Thomhas both thought was so important.

Thomhas had a laugh with a rich timbre. "You just don't know who she is." His laughter subsided. "That's just wonderful. Find her, Livingston; two of the highborn are after her hide, but they don't want to go public, lest they be disgraced."

"Of course I will." Livingston coughed. "All it takes is time."

Time for what? I wondered. Who were they looking for?

"The gentry have no time." Solemn now, I could hear it in his voice. "Soon."

Thomhas was certainly right about that; the nobility in Tännon had no time for anyone but themselves. I understood that now, if not with the same appreciation that the hired servers had, then with my own level of empathy for the working class.

"Soon," Livingston agreed, hauling me back from my introspection. "Catskin?"

I smiled up at him, but it only thinly veiled the tears the waited. "I don't know what to do!"

Ser dy Cattalo glanced blithely my way. "I gave her some lira, Liv. I don't know what she expects you to do." It was such a contrast; moments before, he had been passionate about something, and now…he was indifferent to my fate.

The corners of my mouth stretched downward with the effort of holding back the tears. And I thought he cared.

But the highborn were all alike, weren't they?

"Catskin, take no note of him!" Livingston's arms settled around my shoulders. "We'll figure out something." I mumbled incoherently into the rough weave of his doublet, refusing to look at the one who wreaked havoc on my ego.

I heard a jangle as several more lira were tossed towards me, and I tightened my grip on the coins given earlier. Their hard edges ground against my fingers as my broken fingernails dug into my palm. "I don't want charity," I whispered, though no one heard.

"For your well-being, Catskin," Ser Thomhas said, and then he was gone.

"What am I going to do?" I repeated, terror rising in me even as the sun set outside.

"I have a friend…" Livingston pushed me away so as to better look me in the eye. "She'll take you in for the night." He nodded emphatically, but more to himself than to me. "I'm sure she will. And then tomorrow, you might look for work."

I had to work? But I had no skills! I gibbered hysterically at him, panic obliterating any hope of a sensible word. Ulga had gotten me a place in the scullery, but only because of her recommendation, and surely, out in the city itself, there was no dearth of scullery maids.

A stinging pain marked the spot where Livingston hit me. "Calm down. Be practical; crying isn't going to help you."

It had helped me so many times before, though! When I was younger, I needed only to bring a glistening tear to my eye and whatever wish I had would be granted. The maids had once been particularly susceptible to my tears.

I dragged the back of my dirty hand over my eyes, smearing dirt and tears in a brown stripe. "What is her name?" My chest still heaved with the exertion of my sobs.

"Alary Ostler." Livingston sighed. "She's been my friend for ages." Then he smiled, "She lives on the eastern edge of Tännon city- Eyrir. I think you'll like her."

The only question remaining was whether or not _she_ would like _me._

**Author's Note:** Well, it's been a while. Sorry about that…but having Gulf beaches just minutes away from my hotel room is so not good for writing. But now, I have returned from Florida and I wrote you all a chapter!

This one still needs some work, I think, so any comments on how to improve it would be very, very appreciated. This is one of those important chapters where things are happening and all that, so I want it to be just right. I'm a little worried that all the characters seem a little too contrived and that the plot in this is too rushed. What do you think?

Okay, that's all for now! Please, review and tell me what you think! I always want to know what you think of this…

Happy End of Summer, everyone!


	12. Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

**Warnings**: More characters! Oh no!

**Chapter Twelve:** Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice.

By true dark, Livingston and I had reached the house of Alary and Claudio Ostler. One, dour candle lit the front window, and I shied at the thought of going inside.

Then a scream ripped through the relative quiet of a sleeping city.

"What was that?" Scooting closer to Livingston, I looked around wildly. "Do you know?"

Livingston shook his head. "It might have been anything." He shrugged. "Everything is probably fine, though." Knocking on the door, he smiled confidently at me. "Don't worry, Catskin! She doesn't bite."

"Other things might," I groused, pulling the cats' skins closer around me. I hated this constant feeling of being threatened. Would I ever be safe again? Somehow, I doubted it.

"Stop being such a girl." Livingston grinned as I swatted him on the arm. I was right in the middle of glaring at him when the door swung open, spilling a bright swath of light across my face.

"Who is it?"

I cowered at the sight of the huge goliath standing before me. "Livingston…I think we have the wrong house."

"Liv? Is that you?" Suddenly, the giant was even more imposing, even _scarer_; he lunged forward and tackled my friends, enveloping him with long arms.

Livingston choked something out that sounded a little like a greeting, but I couldn't understand him very well. Then the man released him, and I saw Livingston's smile. Perhaps this stranger wasn't so much a monster as just…tall. Very tall.

"Oh my," the tall man exclaimed, catching sight of me. "What did you bring home, Liv?" He smiled mischievously. "She's a small thing, isn't she?"

"Claudio, Claudio!" Livingston grabbed me and jerked me forward. "This is no cheap, street-side whore like you like, this," He paused for dramatic effect, "is Catskin." With that, I was introduced to Claudio, Alary's husband, and drawn enthusiastically into the house.

"I'm not a…a…" I couldn't bring myself to say the word.

"A whore?" Claudio nodded affably. "I know. Livingston has better taste than that." He grinned, "Even if I don't."

I frowned, but said nothing.

We were pulled into the Ostler household quickly, accepted without much question. I was soon acquainted with both Alary and her daughter, Thamry.

"Livingston! You didn't tell me you had _friends_!" Alary cooed at him, fussing over the state of his dress. "Really, you should keep me informed."

"Really, I don't have to tell you everything." Livingston tried his best to look affronted, but he just couldn't pull it off. "And besides, Catskin isn't _that_ kind of friend. You should know that by now."

I had been sitting silently, fascinated by their casual banter. "Mistress Ostler-"

"Dear God, child, don't make me feel old!" Alary grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a bench. "Shove over, Thamry." As the little girl slid to the end of the bench, her mother pulled me down. "Now, what is it that you were saying?"

"Mistress Alary, has Livingston proposed to you the idea which he discussed with me?" I cringed at the wording; Ulga would be proud of me for its delicate phrasing, but the people around me only thought it strange.

I was surprised when Alary took it with barely more than a passing glance at me. "Livingston! What have you told this poor girl?"

I watched Livingston's go as red as mine surely was. "I told her she could stay with you for the night. She's got no where else to go." He paused, but didn't go on.

"And…?" Claudio glanced at his wife. "What else have you promised her?"

My friend sighed. "Perhaps you could help her find some work."

"You don't promise much, do you?" Alary turned to me. "It'll be fine, you staying here for the night. After that…"

"I can pay rent!" I could feel desperation welling up in my stomach. "I- I just need to find work. And then I will pay if you will just let me stay- for a week! That's all. A week." I hated myself for it, but I was once again begging. It galled me to no end. I had no plans after that, but if I had but a week…I prayed to the Madonna and her holy child that I might be able to find something.

"And what will you pay rent with?" Livingston asked shrewdly, undercutting my proposition with a few simple words.

"I have some money left. And I have what…Ser dy Cattalo gave me." I shoved my hands into the pocket where the lira rested. "After that, I will work."

"Where?" This time, it was Alary who questioned me. "Though Livingston may have promised you that we can get you a paying job somewhere, there is no guarantee of that, mark you."

I was close to tears. "I will find _something_." My palms stung from the edges of the coins pressing into them. "Something." I promised myself I would, too.

"A night, for now. On the morrow, you look for work." Claudio leaned closer to me. "We cannot support you by ourselves. Thamry's enough as it is."

"I understand." And I did.

Later, as Livingston said his farewells, he drew me into a tight embrace. "I will listen for word of you, Catskin, and escape when I can. If you go, leave word with Alary and she will tell me where."

"I will." I could feel his fingers catching in the fur of the cloak. "I shall see you soon, my friend." It was hard to let go of him; so much change in my recent history had made me wary of it.

"Liv! Livi!" We separated as a little red head latched onto Livingston's leg. "Bring me a cake next time! You promised last time!"

I laughed at Thamry's demand, but I hoped it came true. "Yes, Liv, bring us a cake."

He smiled. "I'll do my best."

Alary then wedged herself into the mix, catching up her daughter and giving Livingston a quick kiss on the cheek. "Be good and hurry back." Then she smiled. "But try not to bring more friends. Our house can only hold so many."

"Catskin's special, you should have figured that one for yourself. I wouldn't have brought her otherwise." Livingston smiled widely at me. "Have a good night, everyone." Then he was gone.

I felt quite alone.

"Where do I sleep?" It was late, now, much later than I was used to being awake.

"This little cat isn't nocturnal?" Claudio quipped, smirking.

I yawned, proving my point. "No."

Alary took my sleeve. "This way, Catskin." My assumed name rolled over her tongue as if she could taste it. "We've a blanket for you, and you can take a spot near the fire."

"In here?" I glanced at the warped wooden floor.

"We've only got one other sleeping room, and that's for us." Alary smiled apologetically. "It's a small flat."

Sleeping on the floor here would be no different than sleeping on the floor in the royal kitchens, I supposed. I smiled and thanked her. "I'm sorry to impose on you like this."

Alary simply nodded. "I'll go get you a blanket. Nights are cold."

"You don't have to." I plucked at the corner of my cloak. "This should be warm enough."

"You'll still want a blanket, lovey." Her lips curved into a maternal smile. "We've got blankets aplenty. It's just the rooms we lack."

"Well, thank you." I tried my best to look grateful. "Good night, I guess."

"I'll wake you in the morning, if you aren't already up. You can help me then." Alary touched my shoulder gently. "Sleep well, Catskin." With that, she slipped away into the bedroom where her family waited. I blew out my candle and settled down for the night, wishing, not for the first time, that I wasn't alone.

"Come on, get up." A warm hand on my shoulder startled me awake. "Morning." I groaned and rubbed my eyes. A night on that hard floor had left me with only several hours' sleep.

"G'morning," I mumbled in response. "Can I help with anything?" My words came out slurred, and I repeated myself until I was intelligible.

"You get the porridge started, will you?" Alary pointed to a pot that hung to the side of my recent bed. "Shouldn't be too hard for that sleep-fuzzy head of yours." She smiled and I managed a half grimace in return.

Easily, I swung the pot around until it was properly situated over the remnants of a fire. "Alary?" I frowned at the pot. "How do I start it?"

"Get the fire going, but not too high. You don't want to scorch it now, do you? No, you don't." She prattled on, apparently oblivious to whatever I might have done.

I stared at the fireplace, willing it to light itself, but most unfortunately, nothing happened. "Alary?" I asked for the second time, my voice thin and wavering. "How do I start the fire?" In the kitchens at the palace, my work with fires was relegated to simply fetching and carrying the wood. I knew nothing about how to set one to burning.

"Have you never started a fire before in your life, child?" Alary seemed slightly exasperated with me, but I didn't exactly blame her. "I suppose not." She sighed. "Here, this is a flint. Strike it on this and it'll spark." She demonstrated, and I nodded. "Now, you try."

I tried. My first spark was a paltry, premature little thing, and it died quickly. The second was more robust, but I succeeded only in burning my hand. The third one, however, was the charm, and soon I had a lovely fire going. I put the porridge on and proceeded to make breakfast.

"Good, good," Alary said, nodding as she inspected my work. "You can do this for as long as you're with us. Perhaps more, should you learn more."

I nodded. "I will try my best. I'm just…not used to this. When I worked for the palace, I only washed the dishes and carried wood."

"Well, you can do that too, then." She informed me matter-of-factly. "But first to find you a job, no?"

"About that…I have an idea of where I'd like to go, but if that doesn't work out, I may need your help." I didn't want to be too dependent on Alary or Claudio; to burden them with my presence in their household was more than enough.

"Of course you can have our help!" The older woman smiled, her eyes radiating kindness. "We aren't trying to evict you, Catskin." She laughed lightly. "And besides, any friend of Livingston's is a friend of mine."

A hesitant smile found its way to my lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, silly girl. Now, I'm sure there's some dishes for you to wash somewhere…" The early hours of the morning continued in this same fashion, a casual conversation weaving together the time we spent in the kitchen, weaving together my confidence in finding a place to stay until the day that I would become a part of Daryan's life forever.

**Author's Addendum: **Oh, I can alliterate! Anyway, sorry for taking so long to write this chapter! I should never have decided to go to college or take any classes or anything…it all takes too much time. But whatever, the chapter is written, and I hope you really enjoy it (if anyone is left reading)!

Please, review and tell me what you loved/hated and what I could improve upon. Feedback is like oxygen to me; I need it to survive. Also, I just love to hear what you think about it.

That's all I've got to say for now…

Love,

EvenSong


	13. Snakes, Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

**Warnings: **Cold is so not fun!

**Chapter Thirteen:** Snakes, Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

My first unaccompanied visit into Tännon-city began uneventfully enough; no one commented on my disheveled appearance or hurried steps. Indeed, many of my fellow citizens were dressed as I was. Perhaps they did not have quite the apparel that I did, but many sported something just as ragged.

"Excuse me," I paused at a street-side vendor's cart. "Could you perhaps tell me something?"

"For a price, I could tell you the King's secrets," He snarled at me, his words slurred with a heavy brogue.

I bit my lip; confrontation was not something I was good at. "But I don't need to know that." I tried a smile. "Can you tell me where someone lives?"

He frowned at me, blue eyes hardened by years. "Depends on who this person is." A sneer pulled at the side of his mouth, drawing it upwards with a sickening lurch.

"I'm looking for a merchant's daughter. Well, she's old enough to be out of his house, but she's not married or anything and…" I trailed off, cringing at his expression.

"This 'lady' of yourn a noble, perchance?" He sniffed loudly.

"Yes, well, sort of."

"Is or isn't."

"She is," I finally decided.

"I don't know the nobility, chit." He rubbed his fingertips together, the hard calluses grating on one another. "They gots money. I don't."

I frowned and slowly backed away. "They may have money, but they also have class." I could feel my pride in my heritage running through me, waving a fiery flag.

"Class comes with money!" The vendor called after me, his brogue making the words hard to understand.

I shivered as a gust of cool autumn air raced down my spine. I could only hope that the next person I asked would be more helpful.

After a good hour of searching for someone who would help me, I sat down, exhausted, on one of the benches that lined the artisans' district. I had come through the residential and lower class districts, finding nothing but cold shoulders to shove me along my way.

"Excuse me, miss?" A tentative tap on my shoulder startled me out of my reverie. "Could you, perhaps, get up?" The shy creature who confronted me smiled hesitantly. "Now?"

I frowned. "But I just sat down."

"You don't understand?" She whispered, her wide eyes pleading. "Really?"

"No…"

She touched the bench ever so gently. "You see now?" The tip of her finger was smudged with brown. "It's a stain."

I felt the tears well up in my eyes. "Oh. I see now. It doesn't come off, does it?" She shook her head. "Of course it wouldn't." I sighed. "Thank you."

She nodded, her wide eyes crinkling only slightly. "Yes'm."

As I walked on, I could almost feel her eyes, and the eyes of all those around me, staring at my back, at the stiffening fur of the battered catskin cloak. I hated being noticed so, but it seemed to be the only thing I was mildly successful at. I heard the imagined whispers, the hissing breaths of suppressed laughter. I walked on, through the artisans' district, in my own little world of shame.

"Miss?" I turned as the same girl who had informed me of my folly ran up to me. "I can help you get some of that off."

I stared, suddenly suspicious. "You said it didn't come off."

She shrugged, eyes downcast. "No." She parted her hair so as to better see me. "But it does, sometimes." A nod. "This way."

I followed her, not knowing what else to do.

We ended up in a cramped little shop off of the main way, hidden in between other buildings. The girl, Cansin, led me in, not bothering to knock. "Tanlin!" She called into the depths of the room in a voice louder than I had heard her use yet. "Need you, please."

The mirror image of Cansin stepped out of the shadows, wiping dirty black fingers across her sweaty forehead. "Yah?" She frowned. "Cansi, what's this?"

"She sat on it," the girl answered simply.

Tanlin's face morphed into a wealth of understanding. "Ah. Not good, eh?" She smirked. "Got it all over her, eh?"

Cansin nodded, her trailing bangs floating along with her. "You can help?"

"Sure." Tanlin shrugged. "Just…make her take off whatever that is she's wearing. If'n she's got naught beneath…give her something of yours, hey?" She smiled briefly, her mouth returning to its somber post in seconds.

Finally, I spoke. "I have clothes underneath, don't worry." Tanlin merely grunted and extended a hand. "Be careful with it, please." I slipped off the catskin quickly, missing its weight almost immediately. "It's special."

"Maybe you should have taken more care of it," Tanlin suggested caustically. "Yes?"

"Yes." I sighed. The taciturn twins did not seem the friendliest of people, to say the least.

"Miss? Catskin?" Cansin touched my sleeve gently. "Will you pay us?" I must have looked at her strangely, for she rushed on. "Either pay or work it off, whichever you please."

I sighed again, my spirits dropping lower by the second. "I shall work it off," I told her, thinking of how quickly my funds would be reduced to nothing. If I paid Cansin and her sister now, I would have nothing left with which to give Alary and Claudio for my rent. "When do I start?"

"Come back at three?" Cansin looked to the shadows of the far room, where Tanlin's silhouette bent over a large basin. "Three."

I dreaded going out in the chill autumn air without a cloak, but I had no choice, it seemed. "Till then," I said, and left.

My return of the main thoroughfare was punctuated by a cold wind which swept up through my threadbare clothes and raised goose bumps across my skin. I shivered and wrapped my arms tightly around myself, digging my fingers into my ribs. Hurrying along, I scanned the sidewalks for someone who might know where my old governess was to be found.

Finally, I saw a harried looking man in the colors of fa Rellan. "Sir!" I pounced.

"Leave off," He informed me, his country-bred accent falling awkwardly on my ears. "No time for the likes of you."

"Just one question?" I latched onto his arm, my elite intonation and my grip catching his attention.

"Fine." He stopped.

"Where does Ulga fa Rellan live?" I refused to release his arm, even when he tugged suggestively at it.

"Merchants' district, chit." He frowned. "18th on West Lynx Street."

"Thank you!" I smiled happily; at long last, someone had proved helpful. He grumbled but nodded, a smile almost at his lips.

Tentatively, I knocked on the door, praying that Ulga was home. If she wasn't, I wasn't quite sure what I would do. When no one answered after what I deemed a sufficient amount of time, I knocked again, louder.

"We don't do charity." I stared up into a disapproving frown. "So run along, back to the streets with you."

I had forgotten in my long months of exile how the upper class treated the underlings. I knew that I myself had once been guilty of it, but it had conveniently slipped my mind in the presence of such generosity from those of the middle class. Now that I was faced with it once more, and this time on the receiving end, I remembered all too well the elitist ideals of the gentry.

"Go on, then." The door was already shutting, lumbering closed with a great groan.

"Wait. I need to talk to Ulga!" I lunged for the narrowing gap between door and frame, wedging myself between the two. "Sera Ulga fa Rellan. I must talk to her immediately."

"She's not in."

"Oh." All of my bravado and determination deteriorated almost instantly. "Will she be back?"

"No."

I frowned, not liking the answers I was getting. I tried to shove my way through the door again, but it was already too far shut and I met only with dull resistance. "Fine. I'll just wait here then." And I did. I slid to the ground, barring the door with my stubbornness.

I waited for what seemed like hours, feeling my extremities slowly go numb from cold. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and rocked back and forth, wishing desperately that I still had the catskin cloak with me.

Finally, a minor procession approached the house, weaving through the crowd like a parade, a series of dark hats and shawls against the brighter, more festive clothes of the wealthier nobles. I leapt (or perhaps leapt is too active a word; it was more like falling upwards) to my feet and tried to pick out Ulga amongst the somberly attired women.

I didn't see her there, and a rush of tears accompanied a fierce blush to my cheeks. Slowly I sank back to my step. Curling up with my knees up to my chest, I rested my head against the door and watched the somber procession go by. They, however, were soon overshadowed by the most flamboyant and ostentatious group that I had ever seen. Dressed in what could only be the finest fabrics (or the finest imitations of the finest fabrics), a gaggle of peacocks bustled through the streets. The feathers which were in season in the court were perched precariously on their heads, like drowsy, dizzy birds that weren't sure how to stand still.

I gawped at them as they passed me by, amazed by the sheer amount of patterns and colors they could all fit onto one body. It was hideous but at the same time absolutely fascinating. I couldn't look away.

"Kelryian?"

I jerked out of my blinding reverie. "What?" I hadn't heard that name in so long, or so it seemed. Months had stretched out into indeterminably long periods of time in my memory; they were cold and hot, but there were no specific days.

"Oh, my dear, dear child!" One of the exotic birds broke from the flock and sashayed over to me. "Oh, Kelryian, my darling!"

I beheld what had become of Ulga, the newly-fashionable feathered socialite. She had cinched herself into a spangled corset that she would never have dared to wear before and the hat nestled in her curls was of the most garish shade of lime. Her waist flared into shapely hips on one end and overly ripe breasts on the other. I couldn't help but wonder what had happen to her in the few months I had been gone. It hadn't been that long, surely? Despite what it may have felt like to me?

"Ulga?" I reached up a hand to trace along her face and she jerked away.

"You're filthy!" She caught my hand in hers and looked. "You haven't been washing properly, have you?"

Well. This was unexpected. "It's rather difficult to get much soap now, Ulga." I could tell by the scented breaths my lungs were struggling with that she had soap and perfume on a daily, if not twice daily, basis. What upheaval had happened since I had been sequestered in my imposed exile?

"Oh, dear, I forgot myself. You're going to come inside and tell me everything, now." She turned, smiling at her coterie. "I shall see you tomorrow! And you, Cecilia, my dearest one, will be having brunch with me tomorrow morn, you remember that now!" One of the girls in a less flashy motley smiled and waved.

It was the same Ulga, but different as well. I could tell that the same motherly qualities still existed in her, but other things, unfamiliar things were there as well. "What's happened since I left?"

"Oh, I don't know." Ulga chuckled brightly, knocking gaily on the door of the house. "This and that!" She smiled vapidly. "Oh Chase!" Her voice had a singsong, horrible timbre to it.

The same man with the same disapproving, down-turned mouth answered the door, glaring at me when he saw I was still here. "I tried to send her away, madam, but I just couldn't."

"Oh, Chase, don't you worry your little head about this little sweetling! She's like kin to me, aren't you, Kelry?"

I nodded mutely, overwhelmed by the drastic change in the woman I had loved above all others.

"Come along, dearest," Ulga chirped. She tugged my hand gaily, dragging me into the house with her. "Now," she said, waiting until the door slammed shut until she continued. "We have quite a few things to discuss, my little kitten."

And indeed we did.

**An Author's Note:** I'm note entirely sure why, but this chapter was fun to write! That's all I've got to say for tonight about that, and thank you very, very much to those who reviewed! If you would kindly do so again, I would appreciate that very much.

Also, if you have read any good books lately, please suggest them. I'm looking for some new reading material because I seem to be running low. Thanks in advance!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did!

Till next time, then!


	14. Frailty, Thy Name is Woman

**Warnings:** Lots and lots of…text.

**Chapter Fourteen:** Frailty, thy Name is Woman

As I marinated in a steaming bath, soaking away months of dirt and grime, Ulga talked to me, never letting silence stay for more than a breath of time. "It was rather dramatic, you know," she told me, as if proud of herself as well. "That escape of yours, oh they'll talk of that for years to come! They'll talk of you, my dear, you!" I could tell it was hard for her to completely drop the foppish drawl she adopted in the interim since our parting.

"Ulga, you have to tell me," I gasped as hot water cascaded over my knees from a hidden faucet. "You must tell me why…all this?"

She grinned. "It takes quite a bit to make a mouth like mine stay silent."

"What? Silent? What are you talking about, you silly goose?" I splashed some water her way, half-heatedly trying to get her wet. "You have to tell me everything!"

"I would if you'd stop talking, Kelry." Ulga rolled up her sleeves and plunged her hands into the bath, like she had in the days before. "Now, I've told you that it was quite a dramatic exeunt and that they're still talking about it, but that's just it, Kelry, they're still talking!" She and I sighed at the same moment, she from worry and me from sheer delight. "Granted, _they_ aren't saying much, your parents and Ser Gerand, they're just saying you were always a willful child and that you deserve whatever you've got now, but oh, the younger ones! How they talk!" Ulga laughed happily. "You wouldn't believe the things they say! They say you, their most beloved and dearest friend, have been carried off by foreign raiders, dirty Norsemen or monsters. All the lads keep saying, though quietly, mind you, quietly, that they'll be the one to rescue you from whatever's got you and then--" She paused as I looked at her quizzically.

"Why do they say I was their best friend? I hardly knew any of them beyond a name!" Sinking down in the water, I let the concealed jet of water wash over my tired body. "And the gentlemen of the court, they would rescue me?" I laughed nervously. "I don't understand."

"Kelry, my dear, you are a cult celebrity!" Ulga proclaimed proudly. "They idolize you for being so very, very daring."

"And, another thing, how _do_ you know all of this?"

Ulga looked rather uncomfortable. "I was getting to that part, kitten, just wait a moment or two, yes?"

"Of course."

"Well, after you'd run off, your father immediately questioned me, as I was the last person to have seen you presumably alive. You understand, yes?" Ulga ran her competent fingers through my hair, rubbing away all my headaches. "He wanted to know if I'd had naught to do with it, and of course I told him I hadn't. It just wouldn't do if I told him outright, of course. Your mother, on the other hand, didn't believe a word I said. She thought that for sure, it was my fault, that I had corrupted you and—"

"You? Corrupt me? Never!" I sneered. "_She_ was never there, to supervise anything—"

Ulga nipped my bitter invective in the bud. "Perhaps true, but unimportant at present. The fact is, she didn't believe me but there wasn't much she could do about it." At my questioning look, she continued. "Ser Aloysius wouldn't have it, that's what! That father of yours has quite a head on his shoulders sometimes, you know. He understood that, should I be fired under such…undesirable circumstances that I would no longer be required to cleave to your family with undying loyalty." She smiled rather grimly. "In fact, I might be tempted to sell my secrets to the voracious curiosity of those who seek new and sensationalist information, which, in the end, might have had a detrimental effect on the wonderful name of your long established family."

"So what are you telling me? You're saying that you still belong to my family, my 'wonderful name'?" I shivered as I stood up from the bath, feeling the water sluicing down my skin. "Can I have a towel?"

"Of course." Ulga wrapped a soft swath of fabric.

I thanked her and stepped out of the water entirely, wincing as my feet touched the cold floor. "I'm still not quite sure that I understand everything." I frowned. "What exactly did my father propose to you to keep your silence?" I stopped and considered the state I had seen her in earlier today. "Or have you kept your silence?"

My former governess smiled as she wrapped another towel around my head. "Kelry, Kelry, would I ever betray you?"

I remained pointedly silent.

"No, I wouldn't," she answered her questioned, barely phased by my refusal to speak. "Aloysius, though he may be a parsimonious miser, does know the true value of his money and how much he has to spend. Really, he is quite the businessman. He has told me to keep close the secret of your departure from both your family and your future and to spread false accounts of you and your most scandalous escape."

"Why do you do it? And why the sudden finery and vast expenditures on your part?" I picked at the fine towels wrapped around me. "Wherever did you get something like this?"

The secretive smile that I was coming to dislike quite a bit graced her lips again. "I'm getting there, just you wait. Here," she said, taking the towel from me and proffering a robe, "Put this on."

I wrapped in the robe, and for several minutes, we didn't speak at all. I was trying desperately to comprehend all of these new developments in the convoluted mess that had become my life, but I was having difficulties. Too many things were changing too quickly.

"Now," she murmured as we settled into the sinfully soft chairs that lined the room. "Let us continue." I nodded my assent, tightening my fingers on the robe's front, pulling it taut with my tension. "I told you that your father wanted me to be discreet and skirt about the truth but also to give a false account. Naturally, I couldn't refuse him, but since I now lacked my tie to your family through you, we both felt that there was some incentive needed. Your fiancée, Ser Gerand, also agreed, as the truth would cause no small amount of disgrace to fall upon his shoulders as well."

A small, wry curve pushed my mouth upwards into a hesitant smile; I hadn't thought of Gerand al Monteville in quite some time, it seemed. Not since Lucia had flaunted her assignation with him had I been reminded of his presence; truly, I had better things to think about.

I sighed inwardly. Those better things included _Daryan_.

Ulga chuckled. "I believe I recognize that look, sweetling."

Quickly, I stilled my expression and forced into quiet nonchalance. "What expression?"

"It's the one that all those lovelies at court get whenever their young swains pass by or gift flowers." She leaned towards me and touched my cheek. "Kelry, don't think you're the only one who's reaching for that Prince you dream about."

I made a face at her. "How do you know that's what I'm thinking about?"

"It's who you ran away for, you silly thing."

I sighed, a deep, romantic's sigh; a thing of longing and hope it was, yet terribly dangerous as well. "True enough."

"You must realize by now that getting to him will be awfully difficult, yes?" Her eyebrows arced upwards. "He doesn't deign to consort with the likes of you- that you have temporarily become," she quickly corrected herself.

"Yes he does." I thought back to that day, the day he had silently told me he loved me and humiliated Lucia. I remembered it with crystalline clarity. We had been in the kitchens, alone save for the spiteful Lucia and the hapless Katy, sharing a moment that had transcended time-

"Kelry?"

"Yes?"

"Shall I continue or shall I just let you muse?"

"Do continue, please." I twisted my fingers idly, cautiously watching Ulga as she spoke. How was it that she could read me so well?

"Well, your father has been working to insinuate me into Daryan's Court, and from there, I have been telling everyone, quietly, of course, of your most mysterious and suspicious disappearance. I already told you some of my favorite conclusions that they've come too; they really are creative darlings, when they want to be." Ulga prattled on about the 'lovely dears' and the 'girlish gooses' all while I sat and listened. My ears filled with the lives of people that I might have known, that I might have been one of. I thought again of the life I might have had, how I might have acted, if only I had not chosen to be so belligerent. As I slipped back into Ulga's indulgent rambling, I felt the lingering sadness within me grow a little bigger. "…And wouldn't you know, but Sera Nathalia, who's one of the more intelligent ones, has even been looking into marriage arrangements with Ser Gerand. Now, I think that it's a little soon for that, since it's only been a matter of months, not a year yet, but her father is most intent on marrying her off. I don't believe she's any happier about it than you were, Kelry, although she is a bit more resigned to it…"

I was shocked. Gerand would give me up so soon? But why? Weren't business connections with my father more important to him than that? I supposed not.

Ulga must have seen the shock on my face, for her story slowed to a trickle. "Nathalia, I think, may have concocted a scheme not unlike yours, you know. Perhaps, if she does do something…drastic, you could help her?" A delicate eyebrow arched.

"I don't think so."

"Well, why not?" She looked startled.

"Because. I don't want to." I added to myself, _Because_ _I won't be here for much longer._

"But Kelry, you must! She won't have any idea of what to do!"

"Neither did I." I folded my arms. "Neither will she."

"Hmm." Ulga's lips compressed into a thin line. "I see. You have a point."

"I know."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she smiled. "Well, let's get you dressed then, shall we? We can't have you looking like this, now, can we?" Her cheeks warmed to a lovely rose as she warmed to her topic. "I've the most lovely dress, you know. I think it might fit you well."

I bit my lip sadly. "I'd love to, but I just couldn't take it."

"Oh, but I insist!" She protested, drawing me to my feet. "You absolutely must wear it! It'd look so perfect on you!"

Reluctantly, I drew my hand out of hers. "You don't understand, Ulga; if I walk out in one of your dresses, then I shall be absolutely out of place. It will be ruined in the space of a moment, and I'll feel absolutely terrible about it." I smiled sadly. "If you would, servant's clothes, or my own, if you please."

Tears brightened my governess's eyes. "Kelryian, my dear child, what have you been reduced to?"

"One day, Ulga, I will wear whatever you wish. But not today." I realized how far removed from each other we had become; she, the insipid court lady, and I, the calloused maid, were suddenly very, very different. "Have you a maid close to my size?"

Ulga finally nodded, and strode out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I was alone for the last few minutes of the visit, out of place in the sumptuous setting. I was awkward, no longer the graceful young girl who had run from an unwanted marriage. I was no longer artless; I had little capacity for trusting my own kind, the gentry.

It was a sobering thought.

"Sera Kelryian?"

I looked up. "Yes?"

"I am to give you these." The maid proffered a bundle of nondescript clothing. "Will these be adequate?"

"Yes, thank you." I held up the smock. It would fit passably well after being belted. The leggings as well would also do, I noted as I held them up. I dropped them on the floor and turned my back to the maid. "You're dismissed," I told her as I let the fine robe drop from around my shoulders. I heard the door click as I picked up the first piece of clothing.

It was time to return to my world.

**Author's Note**: Aren't breaks absolutely _wonderful_?! I certainly think so! No real work to do, just relax, eat and be merry! And, of course, write. For those of you who've been wondering what happened to Ulga…here's what! If you think I still left something out, be sure to tell me. I'll fit it in next chapter, or the chapter after that. If you also feel that I left something out in general, or something just isn't right…be sure to tell me that too. I love feedback so much! D

A big thank you goes out to all of you who suggested books too…I really appreciate that! I now have a whole list of things to look for on my next trip to the library. I'm excited. :)

I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving!


	15. Back to the Salt Mines

**Chapter Fifteen**: Back to the Salt Mines

"Dearling, you're sure you can't stay?" Ulga pleaded half-heartedly, knowing my departure was inevitable.

"I really have to go." I extracted my hand from her grip, letting it fall to my side. "I'll come back, Ulga." I turned, my hand on the door.

"Kelryian, please, must you?" I glanced at her face, watching it collapse slowly. "We could have a life together."

My lips quirked into a tiny smile, "You know better." And that was all. I was out the door, slipping back into the streets where I belonged.

I could feel the bite of the air as I stepped outside and I shivered; I hoped Tansin and Canlin had finished cleaning that cloak of mine. Sometimes, it was more trouble than it was worth. The stones of the street struck hollowly on the soles of my new shoes and I sighed inwardly. I could tell that this was going to be another long day.

When I finally found my way through to the artisans' district, I hurried through the back alleys towards the hovel where Cansin had led me. Even though it was still in the afternoon, I was happy to get inside. "Cansin?" I called. "Tanlin?"

Cansin soon appeared as a silhouette in the doorway. "Yes? May I help you?" She was ever self-effacing, curtsying deferentially to me to accent her words. "Oh! Miss!" A shadow of a smile ghosted across her face. "You've returned!"

"Indeed." I grinned at her. "Have you anything for me to do?" As I spoke, I could feel the cadences of speech that Ulga had ingrained into me slipping away. "Is my cloak ready?"

"Yes, of course we've finished cleaning up your mess, miss." Tanlin lounged in the doorway, a lean shadow arcing out from the wall. "'Tis all finished, missy."

My grin faltered. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"How do you plan to pay, if I may ask?" She imitated the languid droll of the gentry, mocking my mannerisms as well.

"Yes, that is something I would like to discuss with you…" I trailed off hesitantly, intimidated by her glare.

"Have you no money? No coin to pay us with? It'll cost you half a florin, you know." Tanlin stalked over to me, her dark hair swaying with her every step like hissing snakes.

"Half a florin?" The tears stung my eyes. "I barely have a single lira to my name! How am I to pay half a florin here and now?" Desperation must have colored my voice for her sardonic smirk softened slightly.

"Can you work, careless cloak wearer?" She eyed me critically. "You look like you have not the strength to work for me."

"For us," Cansin murmured. "She'd work for us."

"Yes, Cansin, for _us_." Tanlin sighed. "Together, I know." She turned back to me. "Can you work or no?"

"I can work." I held out my hands palm up. "See?"

Even Cansin laughed quietly. "That's nothing," She murmured. "You see?" She held out her own palms, scarred and stained as they were. "That's what real work looks like."

I lowered my hands. "I will work off whatever I owe you. Is that an acceptable arrangement?"

Tanlin shrugged. "Sure thing, miss." Then she grinned wickedly and stuck out her hand. "Have you a name?"

"Catskin," I told her, offering my own hand. Her grip was strong and sticky. "What shall I do?"

"You'll help Cansin, I think." Tanlin's grin widened. "I wouldn't want you to lose any of those pretty fingers, eh?"

"Why would I lose fingers?" I looked at them in confusion.

"That bench you sat on? I carved it. With a _knife._ A _sharp_ knife. They'd take yours off quite easily, I think." The young woman looked proud of herself. "Me? I've got all my fingers, but that took practice. You'll help Cansin."

"And what does Cansin do?" I was almost too scared to ask.

"She stains whatever I carve." Her mouth curved upwards. "You should be able to handle that, at least."

Her twin smiled. "Yes, Catskin, I believe you could handle that. Come, we shall work until dark."

And so began my first day of many working with Tanlin and Cansin, the twins from the artisans' district. My hands were soon as brown as Cansin's, if not as worn. We worked every day except for holy days from dawn till dusk; I would wake up at Alary's, start the fire and the porridge while it was still dark, and make it to the artisans' district by first light, bearing extra porridge as an offering to the usually grouchy Tanlin. We would break for midday, but from then till dusk, we worked.

The holy days were something different; I would wake earlier and bathe for longer, letting the hot water drip from a cloth over my skin. Sometimes, Alary would wake as I left, but more often than not, I left without seeing any sign of my landlady or her family. I would walk the streets of Tännon-city through the empty districts, hurrying through the false dawn to Ulga's house. Together, we went to the dawn devotions together, each finding solace in the service of Madonna and Child. It was my one day of respite from the hard work that Cansin and Tanlin put me to every other day and I enjoyed it.

Sometimes, I would see people I knew at the dawn service, splashed with the pallor of the winter sun. Mostly, they were older women, the widows of the gentry. Bedecked in black veils and thick shawls, they never noticed my presence. They were thoroughly focused on the specter of the Minister raging before them, silhouetted against expensive stained glass. At dawn, the church was only sparsely populated and so Ulga and I often had an entire row to ourselves in which to worship. Although she had changed in other ways, my governess's devotion to the Madonna had never wavered.

"Kelry," she whispered one morning Sara says1 after the last snows had melted, "You must know that I am different now; I am no longer your governess."

"Of course," I murmured in response. I had known this for quite some time. "You are now a friend, I would like to think." My words fell into wooden silence. Then, the Minister picked up again, his voice pitched to carry to the ears of all.

"Yes, but Kelry, dearest, I must admit to you, many of my servants think that it is still quite odd that I spend so much time on you." I took a quick glance at her face and noted the studied indifference. "I don't know that I'll be able to take you to devotional anymore." She pursed her painted lips delicately. "I do hope you understand."

"Silence!" The Minister roared, stalking over to where we knelt on embroidered cushions. "Silence in the holiest of holy places!" He placed two fingers beneath Ulga's chin and lifted upwards. "You, my dear lady, defile the temple of the Madonna. What spirit has possessed you to do such a heinous act?" Ulga's eyes closed and I could see her shaking. She was terrified of this passionate man and his divine rages. "Lady, I ask you to remain silent." His voice kept the hardened edge though his words were polite.

I shivered as I saw his feet turn towards me. "Sir Minister, please," I began speaking softly, but a single finger over my lips stopped me.

"My child, dear, respectful child, you have done nothing wrong." His pale eyes softened as I met his gaze. "A servant, of all people, coming to a devotion and outshining the piety of her mistress. Usually it is not so but you, oh child of the Madonna, have proven this wrong." His words made little sense to me, for I was merely watching his lips form shapes. My true attention was focused on a figure kneeling in front of me, black gloves embroidered with the most delicate patterns. I knew those gloves, I recognized them immediately. As the Minister stopped speaking, I jerked my attention back from the figure.

"Good Father, I pray of you, bless me." I bowed my head, staring fixedly at the floor. That I had managed to speak coherently and logically was a blessing in and of itself.

"Of course, sweet girl." The Minister placed a hand on my head, the weight of him bearing down upon me. Beautifully, he intoned a litany, his voice rising to the heavens. Beside me, I could almost feel Ulga's anger at the scolding and my subsequent blessing.

That, however, didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was the presence of the man in the row ahead of us. I hadn't seen him in months, and hadn't thought of him since I had spent the last of his charity.

Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo knelt piously before me, terrifying me with his mere presence in the church.

As the Minister finished the litany and released me from his spell, I looked up. At first blinded by a sudden flare of light from the sun through the windows, I soon found myself faced with a dark gaze. His lips quirked up a split second before I looked down.

How I cursed him in that moment! I didn't know how much he remembered, or if he even remembered me, but if he did…I shuddered. My whole life could be turned upside down again.

I walked out of the church, subdued with worry and clutching the loose weave of my shawl tightly. "Ulga," I muttered, "I agree with you entirely; we should no longer attend this service."

She looked over at me sharply. "Kelryian?"

I shook my head.

A look of pure relief swept over her countenance. "How wonderful!" She stepped lightly into the carriage and then turned to me as I settled in across from her. "Kelryian, dearling, you've made this ever so easy for me! You always were a wonderful child." She smile beatifically and rapped twice on the roof. With a lurch, the carriage began to roll, carrying us back to the merchants' district and away from Ser dy Cattalo.

The next day, when the spring air carried an early hint of warmth, I ran to the palace kitchens to find Livingston. I needed him now more than ever.

"Catskin!" He smiled hugely when he saw me. "Oh, sweet girl, you've surprised me!"

I grinned and hugged him. "Livingston, you know I couldn't stay away for long." Then I sobered. "But I have to ask you a question."

"Anything, Catskin, anything in the world!" He caught my hand and pulled me into his small dormitory. "You know how I care for you."

"Yes, of course, and I thank you for that." I folded myself neatly onto a chair and looked at him. "What do you know of Ulga fa Rellan?"

He shrugged. "Not much. She was the governess for the dy Relandrants, but now she's just another of the minor nobles flocking around Prince Daryan." His eyes were full of questions. "Why do you ask?"

"I saw her the other morning at the dawn devotional and she was being chastised. I…was curious." I twirled a piece of hair around my finger, fascinated by the blonde of it.

"Oh, well curiosity killed the cat!" Livingston smiled cheerily and wandered towards me. "But satisfaction brought her back." He pinched my cheek softly. "Sweet Catskin, ever curious!"

I laughed. "Indeed I am!" Sighing, I picked at the edges of the catskin cloak.

Livingston, noticing this, remarked offhandedly, "You need a new cloak! That one is entirely too dirty and disheveled."

"It'll be a fine day when I can afford one of those," I lamented half-heartedly.

"Oh, one day," He murmured. "Soon, I suppose."

"If only some magical fairy would come down and bestow upon me a gift of a fine cloak!" I laughed as I said this, knowing that the fairy tales that my mother and I had played were only stories and nothing more. "No fairy would be as kind to such a girl as me, I bet."

We both jumped as a harsh knock sounded at the door.

My friend frowned. "Who comes to visit me in the middle of the day?" He opened the door with a flourish and then hurriedly bowed. "Thomhas!"

I felt my cheeks flush and burn. "Ser dy Cattalo," I mumbled with a curtsy. I turned to Livingston. "I'd best be getting back or Tanlin with yell at me for being lazy again, I'm sure." I kissed him quickly on the cheek and slipped out the door, squeezing past the nobleman. "Farewell, Livingston!"

Quickly, I ran back to the artisans' district and rested only when I reached the shop. "Sweet Madonna and Child," I breathed, feeling my heart racing.

"Catskin?"

My head jerked up as Cansin touched my shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course." I smiled shakily. "Does anything need to be done?" She looked at my strangely but nodded and led me away. For the rest of the afternoon, I worked, but Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo clung to the edge of my thoughts until I slept that night.

In the morning when I stepped outside, a basket of breakfast items resting on my arm, I tripped over a package labeled "_Kelryian_". In it was a shawl of finely woven wool. A note slipped out of the folds as I shook it out.

"_Wear this product in good health, from the weavers at Godwin & Godwin Looms."_

I began to breathe again.

**Author's Note**: Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Happy New Year! Sorry this took me a month to do…the holiday season is horrendously busy! I am thoroughly sick of Christmas songs (which I thought was impossible!) and I do believe I have worn every single little black dress in my closet…but at least we're all on break now! Hooray!

So anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; I rather liked writing it. :)

As always, feedback is much appreciated! Thanks in advance!

Happy everything to everyone!

* * *

Sara says1We're going to say…Mid April 


	16. Quoth the Raven

**Warnings:** Tabloids! (Sort of)

**Chapter Sixteen**: Quoth the Raven…

As summer approached, I began going to the dawn devotional again. I never saw Ser dy Cattalo again and although I rarely saw Ulga, she would send me gifts of expensive finery from time to time, none of which were practical or useful at all. Each gift was accompanied by flowery notes full of courtly pleasantries and empty promises. Usually, I would sell them and use them to pay my rent, making up for what my meager salary from the twins couldn't cover.

With summer came the wildly fantastic parties of the younger gentry. I remembered them from the tales that I would glean from the serving maids, who always told the tales with the most relish they could possibly manage. They told each other of the decadence with which the affairs were spangled as I listened discreetly. I had anticipated my first season of summer madness to come the summer I turned seventeen. Indeed, I sighed, thinking of the times that could have been, this summer would have been my debut in the whirling social circles of the youthful gentry.

This year, Livingston was the one telling me of the revelry, recounting every detail he could dredge up from his memory.

"Oh, Catskin, you won't believe what your Sera Ulga did the other night! I swear from the bottom of my mother's soul that she was dangling from the arm of the Prince himself!" He guffawed obnoxiously, finding this terribly amusing. "I'm not certain how she managed it, but she seem absolutely glued to him, along with our favorite little socialite, Sera Ceryn fa Gelder." Livingston had told me many of the exploits of the gentry and Ceryn fa Gelder's were always among the most scandalous and therefore the most entertaining.

"Delightful!" I leaned forward, not wanting to miss a bit. "What did she do this time?"

"This time, oh this time! It was wonderful. Absolutely splendid! One for the books, to be sure!" Livingston grinned. "She fell into the fountain with Ashe dy Orinth and when she came up, she claimed that her brooch was missing. So, in due order, everywhere was searched and guess where that brooch turned up?"

"In Ashe's pocket?" I guessed. Ceryn's exploits were usually centered around men.

"No! She still had it after all, but do you know what was found instead?" Livingston's eyes fairly sparkled with salacious glee. He didn't give me a chance to answer this time. "Her gold waist-chain. And do you know where it was found?" Once more, I was not given a chance to answer. "In Kieran al Favroth's coach!"

I was stunned speechless; this was Ceryn's best faux pas yet! The waist-chain was something that I hadn't been too fond of, save for in winter when the cold metal was pressed against my skin beneath my shift. That Ceryn's had been found parted from her person was a distinct statement about her latest choice for a fling. "But how do you know it was hers?"

"It had Gelder's crest on the pendant, along with her insignia."

"No!" I gasped. "Really?" I was starving for more gossip.

"Really!" Livingston sighed. "What a wonderful evening!"

"Oh, Liv, how did your kestrel go over?" Earlier in the week, he had complained of the complicated cake he was sculpting. I hadn't known that cake could be sculpted until now.

"It was wonderful! Everyone really seemed to love it. The head went first, then the wings. I think it was a hit!" Livingston sighed happily; he always loved to describe to me the destruction of his intricate creations.

I clapped my hands, "Excellent!" Then I sobered. "Livingston?"

"Yes, Catskin my dearest?"

"What was Sera Ulga doing with Daryan?"

"How was I to know? I couldn't get within hearing distance of the Prince all night! And believe you me, I tried." Livingston grimaced. "I know how obsessed with him you are. You never fail to ask me about him when you come, it seems."

I sighed. He was right. Daryan was an obsession- no, _true love_, I corrected myself. "When's the next one happening?" A ghost of a plan began to coagulate in my brain. It would be a wild scheme, but perhaps…

"No. I know what you're going to ask."

"Livingston, please!" I bit my lip hesitantly. "Could you just get me a position as a server?"

"Catskin, I don't know." He shook his head. "The help's just the help." A shrug. "It wouldn't be good for you anyway."

"Just this once, please, please, _please_," I begged. Despite my pleading, my friend refused to relent.

"I just don't think I could handle knowing that I put you through just torment," He justified his decision. "To be there but not be able to touch him or even talk to him?" He shrugged. "It wouldn't be right, kitten."

"Kitten?" I made a face, but forged on, ignoring the misnomer. "But this _is_ torture!" I sprawled across his floor, arms akimbo. "I am dying with desperation, collapsing in this confinement!" I sighed dramatically. "My soul shreds with each second I do not see him…"

"I'll say it is," Livingston cut in. "It's breaking your brain, that's what it's doing."

"So you agree, then, that I must see Daryan?" I rolled over, looking up at him from beneath my lashes. "It's really obvious now, isn't it?"

"No, it's not." He pinched my cheek, laughing as I squirmed away. "Really."

I collapsed once more to the ground, all the air going out of me. "I'll just have to find some other way, then." I was determined; I could do anything if I set my mind to it.

He laughed at me. "Don't be stupid."

I grimaced. "I'm not being stupid. I'm being resourceful."

"You're being stupid."

"Who's being stupid, now?"

I hastily sat up and smoothed out my clothing as Ser dy Cattalo stepped into the room. "Livingston is," I blurted, forgetting propriety entirely.

"That was childish." Livingston grinned at our unexpected guest. "Don't mind Catskin, she's just a silly girl."

Ser dy Cattalo's mouth turned upwards into a small smile. "Sometimes silly girls can be quite intriguing though." He folded himself neatly into an empty chair by Livingston. "But I talk in riddles, it seems."

"Indeed, dear Thom." My friend arched an eyebrow. "But you musn't do that, hmm?"

My head whipped back and forth, turning from Livingston to dy Cattalo to Livingston again. I was having difficulty following their conversation so far.

"Liv, would you care to introduce me to your lady friend?" Ser dy Cattalo turned to me, a gracious smile resting lightly on his lips. "We haven't been properly introduced, I fear." The sudden break from cryptic words startled me; I was completely unprepared for the focus on myself.

"Ah, of course!" Livingston stood gracefully and held out a hand to me. "My lady, if I may help you stand."

I giggled. "Thank you." Mustering all the grace that Ulga had forcibly instilled into me, I rose and turned to face Ser dy Cattalo. Livingston put a hand on my shoulder and I started, remembering manners as well. Curtsying, I murmured, "Milord, I am called Catskin."

I looked up when he took my hand, cautiously meeting his direct gaze. "Catskin," He repeated, mulling over the name. "It is a pleasure to meet you." I could feel the heat of his palm through the cotton gloves he wore. "I am Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo." His lips barely brushed the back of my hand. "Please, call me Thom."

I shivered, remembering the night of my engagement to Gerand al Monteville; Thomhas dy Cattalo had kissed more than my hand that night. "It is a pleasure indeed, Thom." I remembered the way he had looked at me, a mixture of good natured humor and raw desire warring on his face. Looking at him now, I could only see a hint of the man who had been at my disastrous soiree. "But," I hedged my bets, "I think it would be an opportune time for me to leave…" I trailed off, smiling hesitantly, wanting to get out of that room.

"No, no!" Livingston latched on to my arm, an oversized leech. "You don't have to leave. And you know…" He looked pointedly at me and mouthed, "Daryan."

With just a single, silent word, Livingston convinced me. I would stay until kingdom come if it meant that my association with Thomhas could get me access to Daryan. Perhaps it was superficial, but that was my logic. "I suppose I could. Alary won't mind if I get home later than normal."

Livingston made a face at the mention of his sister. "Alary! She won't mind a bit."

"How is Alary, Liv?" Thom smiled. "The last time I saw her she was carrying your little niece."

"Ask Catskin; she lives with her." Livingston shrugged. "I haven't seen her lately."

"It's true; you haven't been over for dinner in such a long time." My lips twisted into a wry grin. "I miss you! Thamry misses you too. She always asks me if I've seen you."

Livingston sighed mournfully. "And I probably won't see her until autumn, at least!"

"Poor Thamry; she can't see her favorite uncle!"

Livingston grinned. "I'm her only uncle!"

Thomhas cleared his throat. "Livingston, you know what that means…she just loves you by default." I could barely stifle my laughter. "You know it's true!" Thomhas protested.

"That I do not deny," I sputtered, delighted with Thomhas's jest. Suddenly, I quieted, very conscious of my every movement. I wondered suddenly what this particular gentle personage would think of my behavior; would he hold me to the same standards that he held the other gentry? My fingers twined tightly in my lap like snakes curling around a mouse.

"See, even Catskin here agrees with me! It must be true then." Thomhas seemed pleased with himself.

"I suppose it must be," Livingston conceded with a sigh. "Catskin knows everything."

"Pah! If I knew everything, I'd be everyone's favorite maid. Instead, I'm just a poor laborer subjected to the harsh demands of an ever expanding city, excluded from the parties, the inner circles…" From Daryan, I added silently.

Thomhas snorted in a most undignified fashion. "It's not as wonderful as you think it is. Why, half the gentry would rather be just part of the working class."

I smiled as sweetly as possible. "I don't know how well those pampered princesses would fare down here in the slums of your great society." I surprised myself with this comment; I was identifying myself more and more with the common people rather than with those of my birth. "The ladies, they might break nails and oh, the gentlemen would surely dent their hats." I was astonished at my own acerbic tone.

"They're tougher than you think," Thomhas defended.

"Oh?" I managed to raise one eyebrow in an expression of skepticism. "Give me an example."

"Most recently, the dy Relandrant girl: there's been no ransom notice and nary a sign of her otherwise." Thomhas crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you say to that?"

"She could be dead." I smiled grimly. "I would think a lady like her would stand out, wouldn't you?"

"Not necessarily," Livingston contributed his two cents. "Not all of the gentry are as spoiled as Ceryn fa Gelder." His lips curved upwards. "She, I would suspect, would not have much trouble finding some type of employment, however."

Thomhas smacked Livingston's hand lightly. "What have I said about making fun of my fellows in my company?"

"I shouldn't, I know, but it's Ceryn. Can you forgive me Ceryn?"

"I believe I could."

I watched their banter suspiciously; I had never had any friendships with those of the lower classes. I had been a lonely child, true, but I had been a _pure child_, unspoiled by the taint of the common. I found it odd that Thomhas and Livingston shared such a bond.

"But back to the matter at hand!" Thomhas turned back to me, dragging my attention back to the present and out of my introspection. "I think she is not dead and is presently surviving quite well."

"I think you're wrong. The dy Relandrant chit could no more survive without her parents than could a newborn rat." It amused me to no end to protest and impugn my own competence.

Thomhas merely smiled. "Soon enough, I'll prove you wrong."

I was stopped in my tracks. "What?" My distress must have shown on my face for Livingston reached towards me hesitantly. "How would you do that?" Suddenly, I didn't trust this man at all. Although he didn't seem to remember me from a year previously, he was looking for me now, hunting me down like I was a doe, fleeing from the hunter's arrow.

Again, that infuriatingly enigmatic smile. "I have my ways."

"But if she's dead…?"

"She's not." He leaned towards me and for a moment, time stopped completely, everything else forgotten. "I will find her, mark my words, and she will be alive and well."

"I'm sure she'll be delighted." My words were sour as I sank back into the world around me.

Thomhas smiled once more, but this time, it was bitter. "She'll only be so if I find her."

"Who else is looking?" I scoffed. "She's been missing for what, a year now?"

"Everyone."

That was an entirely terrifying thought.

**Author's Note: **Yay! I finished this chapter! I don't know how satisfied with it I am, but I'm certainly glad it's done. I think I would have gone crazy if I hadn't finished it. Updates should remain at the regular rate…unless of course something strange happens, like snow. (We haven't gotten much snow where I live.)

I need your opinions on this chapter. If the you don't think it fits, I will rewrite it. I'm just not sure it's right. What do you think?

Thanks in advance!


	17. Ring aroung the Rosie

**Warnings:** Perhaps a bit prolix, but otherwise, okay!

**Chapter Seventeen:** Ring Around the Rosie

I stole through the streets of Tännon in the dead of night, pulling the blue cloak around my face. The heavy wool was stifling in the summer heat, but I couldn't afford to stand out. A woman alone was strange enough, but a woman in a battered fur coat would be far more memorable. The cloak that was the first of a myriad of gifts had proved useful on more than one occasion, but this was the first time since early spring that I had even thought about it. It weighed heavily on me, making my shoulders itch and my neck tingle with sweat, but I soldiered on, intent on reaching the Merchant's District before false dawn graced the sky.

Ulga's butler, Chase, admitted me without question when I knocked, recognizing my face beneath the cowl. He alone of all her servants knew who I was. I thanked him quietly, settling myself on one of her couches while he went to fetch his mistress. I waited in the darkness for Chase had not seen fit to light a lamp and I hadn't the slightest idea where the candles might be. I wished that I could pace, but the darkness did not allow me such a freedom.

Finally Ulga came stumbling down the stairs, her eyes ringed by dark circles, undoubtedly the products of sleepless nights. "My sweet." She glared at me. "Whatever are you doing here?" Her eyes squinted against the light of the candle she carried.

"I've come for a favor." I stood and took the candle from her, setting it delicately on the table. "You're the only one who can help me, Ulga."

"Kelryian…" She put a hand to her head. "Sometimes, you're far more trouble than you're worth, you know. But," She put up a hand to silence whatever I might have said, "I will do my best."

"Thank you, thank you!" I smiled beatifically. "You really are the most wonderful woman in the world!" I knelt before her, taking her hands in mine. "You must promise not to tell anyone what I'm up to."

"Who would I tell, chit?" She groused, a frown creasing her brow. "No one knows who you are."

I grimaced but said nothing of it. "Promise me?"

"Of course. Anything to get you out of here and me back to bed." Ulga sighed gustily. "You are a most spoiled child. I knew it from the moment I first saw you that you would be a burden to me for the rest of my life." Though she did not say it unkindly, any hope of pleasantries was gone.

"Remember when I was to be married to Gerand al Monteville?" I asked, wondering if she could ever forget. "And remember how I demanded those dresses?"

Confirming my suspicious, she muttered, "How could I forget that? I lost a quite comfortable position with that debacle."

Again, stung, I drew back. "Well, I need the first one. The one like the sun." I stood, removing myself from her as I did so. I wondered how much I could ask of her. As I waited for her reply, I found myself pacing to and fro, from couch to table to couch again.

"Kelryian, stop pacing this instant!" Ulga glared again. "It's not ladylike. Plus, you're making my head hurt."

"Yes ma'am." I stopped pacing and began speculating the real reason that Ulga's head hurt; perhaps it was from the sleeplessness, but I suspected that she had overindulged herself in the previous night's festivities. I eyed her carefully, noting the sagging skin around her jowls and the deep crevasses that dove down from the sides of her nostrils. For the first time in many years, I contemplated calling my governess _Ugly_ as I had done when but a child. It was odd being so critical of her, but I felt that I couldn't help but notice the truth.

Finally, Ulga looked up, the furrows in her brow plowing deeper as she squinted to bring me into focus. "The dresses, yes, I do know where they are." She rubbed her eyes, stretching the papery skin this way and that. She summoned the butler with a quick bark. "Take Sera Kelryian to my dressing room and help her with her things."

"Thank you!" I swooped in for a quick, spontaneous kiss on her cheek and then left with Chase, practically leaping up the stairs. My dreams were quickly becoming reality; all I needed now was the date of the next lavish affair. Chase led the way, ascending the stairs with graceful ease. I followed, not to gracefully, but with far more enthusiasm. The few servants we passed along our way gave us very little attention; those who were awake were merely doing their tasks and nothing more, soldiering on through the morning until it was a decent hour.

"Sera," Chase murmured my name, bowing politely. "The dressing room." He opened the door and escorted me inside, his steps silent in the thick carpet. "Your gowns will be in here." The butler pointed to a chest.

I sank to my knees before it, fiddling with the lock before realizing that it was merely for show. Shouldering open the lid, I let my hands roam the fabrics, taking in every texture they had to offer. Shivering slightly I finally drew out the gown that was as shining as the Tännon sun itself. Golden and spangled with citrine and rubies, it was more beautiful than I had remembered. I clutched it to my breast, grinning like a fool.

"Sera?" When I turned, the butler stood behind me, holding paper in his hands. "May I wrap that for you?" He took it without waiting for an answer, covering the dress gently in the tissue. He then folded it gently into a box, as careful as any seamstress. Presenting it to me, he bowed. "A lovely gown for a lovely girl."

I blushed at his compliment. "Thank you." I gently took the box from his hands. "Would you be so kind as to show me out?" Chase bowed and led me once more through the halls of Ulga's house, past the other servants, past the other doorways and out into the foyer once more. Ulga sat there still, her eyes heavy with sleep. I leaned down and kissed her forehead softly, tasting the sweat and cosmetics that had not been washed off. "Thank you, Ulga." She murmured her acknowledgment, not speaking coherently. I smiled fondly; she was half asleep.

Chase, behind me, held out the blue cloak, waiting for me to step into it. As I did, he wrapped it tightly around my shoulders and pulled the hood up over my head in a most paternal manner. "You shan't be recognized, Sera." He was almost as protective of me as Ulga had been. "Wear it well, Sera Kelryian." The butler met my eyes and gave me a pointed look. "Wear it well tonight."

"I shall." Impulsively, I took his hand. "Keep her well, please."

"I do my best." The corners of his mouth deepened. "Do not worry."

As I stepped out the door and back into the still dark street, I felt like myself again, which startled me. I hadn't known that I'd been play-acting, whether for my sake or Ulga's, I didn't know.

After I'd stowed the dress and the cloak at Alary's house, I made my way slowly to the artisans' district, picking flowers as I went. By the time I reached the workshop, I had a bouquet full of bursting flowers. "Cansin, Tanlin!" I sang out as I flung open the door. I suddenly wished that I hadn't opened my mouth quite so widely. "What is that godawful smell?" I coughed, feeling as if I was trying to expel one of my own lungs.

"We're treating the wood today." Tanlin announced cheerily. "I love the smell of sealant in the morning!" She laughed at my horrified look.

"You'll get used to it soon enough."

True to her word, I did, quickly forgetting that the entire workshop smelled to high heaven because I soon found that the stain Cansin was using smelled far worse. It made my eyes water and burned through my lungs. "How do you stand it?" I choked.

"Practice," Cansin said with her usual simplicity. She didn't seem to be affected by it in the slightest. "I smell it when I go home, I smell it here. Sometimes I wonder if I can smell anything at all." She shrugged. "But no matter; you'll only smell this way for a day or two."

"I'm going to smell like _this_?" My world was suddenly precariously unbalanced, swimming before my eyes. "You mean, I'll reek tonight?"

Tanlin suddenly strolled by, "Indeed you will, Catskin. You'll stink of this stuff for _days_." She grinned wolfishly. "Get used to it."

This was terrible; my first appearance at one of the summer soirees was to be tonight. I couldn't miss out! "Is there anyway to get it off?"

"Sure there is; soak yourself forever and scrub until your skin peels off. That should do the trick." Tanlin's grin showed more teeth than I knew she possessed. "Or you can douse yourself with gallons of perfume, if you can afford it."

I made a face. "Then I'd stink like the aristos."

Tanlin laughed at my jibe. "You would, now, wouldn't you?"

"What a horror!" I shook my head. "Well, I guess I shall just have to live with it. What need doing?" The twins gave me a list of chores and without questioning, I worked still sundown, feeling the stink of the workshop seep into my clothing. As the last glimmer of light slipped away from the window, I stopped and brushed my sweat streaked hair out of my face. "That's all for today, no?"

Tanlin nodded distractedly. "Yes indeed, Catskin. Tomorrow, then? Bright and early?"

I grunted my assent, shoving a pile of unfinished wood out of the path of the door. "I'll bring you what breakfast I've got."

"Will you have biscuits?" Cansin asked hopefully. She loved the biscuits that Alary made and ate as many as she could whenever I brought them.

"I'll ask." I smiled at the quiet woman. "Alary doesn't make them, usually." As Cansin's face fell, I amended my statement quickly, "But if I ask nicely, I'm sure she would." With that, I strolled out of the workshop and into the cooler night air. I could feel the sweat from the day's summer heat drying on my skin and I shivered with each step I took. Gracelessly, I unwrapped my hair, letting it tumble down in clumps of pale blonde. It felt delightful to set my locks free from the confines of the scarf and I shook my head happily, letting my locks land wherever they pleased.

I heard a snort from beside me and came face to face with a dappled mare. She snorted again and then went back to sleep. I supposed that I had woken her up with my uncouth behavior. Chastened, I hurried home to Alary and the most gorgeous gown ever made.

"Catskin!" Thamry collided with my knees as soon as I walked through the door. "Cat, Cat, pick me up!" She held her arms up to me and I swung her into my arms, giggling at her delighted shriek. "Again!" I spun her around twice and then deposited her on the floor once more.

"There, now, I wouldn't want to make you all smelly, now would I?" I crossed my arms and pretended to be serious.

Thamry took a quick sniff in my direction and wrinkled her nose. "You do smell." She sniffed again. "A lot."

Alary laughed as she came to rescue me from her daughter. "That's not a very nice thing to say." She chided the little girl. "But it is quite true, I'm afraid." She grinned apologetically.

"I know. We were finishing wood today and it just infiltrates everything." I shrugged. "Tanlin says that it will wear off in a day or two."

Thamry made another face. "That long? You'll smell horrible for that long?" She clapped a hand over her nose. "That's yucky." She giggled through her hand, her eyes dancing with girlish happiness.

"Silly Thamry! Days aren't that long and you'll only have to smell me at night." I looked up at Alary. "You won't have to deal with my particular odor tonight, though. At least, not for long. I'm going to see Livingston tonight."

Alary chuckled, thinking of her brother. "I do know how he likes to talk." She frowned with thought, "But isn't he serving at one of the gentry's parties tonight?"

I nodded; of course I knew--I was planning to go. "He's asked me to help him. They needed another set of hands."

"Don't they always." Alary sighed; she knew very well how demanding the aristos could be. After working for years for many of them, she was experienced and deft at handling their every whim.

I looked down as Thamry tugged the hem of my skirt. "Are you going to dance?" Her soulful eyes shone in the warm light. "You're gonna dance with a Prince, right?"

I smiled uncomfortably; it was uncanny how perceptive children could be. "I don't think so, Thamry. He probably won't even know I exist." How I hoped _that_ wouldn't be true.

"But how?" She pouted prettily. "He knows everyone!"

"That's the King, dear." Alary corrected gently. While she adored King Erath val Tännon, Alary was not nearly as fond of his son. She taught Thamry to love the King as she did, but rarely mentioned the Prince in her daughter's presence. I had been the one to educate Thamry on the charms of Princes, especially Princes named Daryan.

"Prince Daryan doesn't know everyone?" Thamry's face clouded with a sudden frown.

"No," I told her, patting her head. "He's not like his father." And thank the Madonna and her holy child for that, I murmured to myself. With that, I excused myself and made my way to my little room. Quickly, I grabbed the box with the dress in it and wrapped it in the cat skin cloak. I found the pair of delicate slippers that Ulga had sent me months ago as one of her impractical gifts. They were one of the few things that I had saved and they came in handy now.

Within minutes, I emerged back into the common room, kissing Thamry good night and requesting of Alary that we make biscuits in the morning for Cansin. Alary had become quite fond of my two employers through my anecdotes of work with them and adored her idea of Cansin. She readily agreed and I thanked her profusely, even going so far as to hug her loosely. I passed Claudius on my way out and he pinched my cheek, laughing as I swatted away his hand. Then, I was out into the night and free at last.

I sighed, the breath coming clean and cool through my lips and coursing down my throat. I couldn't help myself; I was more excited than I had ever been. Hurriedly, I strode through the streets of Tännon-city without a backwards glance, arriving at Livingston's set of rooms within the hour.

"Livingston?" I knocked softly on the door. "May I come in?"

He opened the door, looking resplendent in his finery. "Catskin, you know I can't have visitors now."

"I don't want to visit," I told him, kissing him quickly on the cheek by way of greeting. "I need to use your bath and get dressed."

He blanched. "Oh, kitten, you're not--"

"Please?" I sighed. "I've a proper dress and everything."

The color slowly seeped back into his cheeks. "I will worry every second for you, you know."

"I won't do anything stupid," I promised, slipping into his apartments. "What kind of trouble could I get into, anyway?"

"With Daryan?" Livingston sighed. "You know. I know you're well aware."

"If Alary asks, can you tell her that I was helping you work?" I set the box and the cloak carefully down on his small table. "That's what I told her."

"You want me to lie to my sister?" Livingston dragged the bath out from its spot and began to fill it with water.

I shrugged, pulling off the overdress. "Well, yes. But it's for the good of everyone, I promise." As I stripped to my undergarments, Livingston turned away, respecting my modesty. "You really are the best friend in the world." I sighed as I released myself to the warm embrace of the hot water. I set about to scrubbing myself clean and freeing myself of the wretched stench that had followed me from the workshop. As I washed, Livingston moved through the rooms gathering all that he would need for the night. Occasionally, he would talk to me, but for the most part we existed in entirely separate worlds.

By the time I was thoroughly cleaned and sparkling, my fingertips had wrinkled and the water had gone cold. Shivering, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me as I stepped out. "Do you have a comb, by chance?" I quickly dried myself and dragged the cotton chemise over my head. "My hair's a little tangled."

When I turned around to take the comb from his hand, Livingston gasped. "Catskin!"

"What?" My hands flew to my face, searching out any flaw.

His hands slowly brought mine down and a smile split his face in two. "Nothing's wrong, kitten. You're lovely—more lovely than I thought you'd be."

I snorted. "Thanks, Liv. What a vote of confidence." But secretly, I was pleased. After a moment of awkwardness, I pulled my hands out of his and began to drag the comb through my tangled hair.

When I was finally dried and dressed, I called my friend to me once more. "How do I look?" I twirled around, giddy with nerves and high on excitement.

Livingston clapped his hands. "Like the loveliest lady I've ever seen! You'll be the belle of the ball, for sure." He grinned. "I don't think Ceryn can ever _dream_ of competing with you."

"Who said I was competing?" I asked, arching one carefully shaped eyebrow. "I intend to sweep them off their feet without a second thought."

"Well," Livingston said, giving me one last appraising look. "I suppose that I should be going. You should too, else you'll miss banquet."

I shook my head. "I'll be there after banquet. I shouldn't like to embarrass myself with a stunning lack of manners." My lips swung upwards in a deliriously happy smile. "But I'll make my grand entrance later. Watch for me."

"Oh I will," He murmured. "Believe me, I will." With that, he touched my cheek gently and then was gone.

I was left alone to wait.

**Author's Note**: Wow! One of the longest chapters of this story yet and it only took me two days to get the entire thing written out! I think it's a new record. I hope you like this…I certainly do. I had a lot of fun writing this, which is probably why it got written so quickly. I think this is also the only time that I've updated within the same month, too. This is really cool. :D

Okay, so, tell me what you think!

And for those of you who were wondering…yes, there really is a fairy tale that this is based off of. It's called many names, one of them being Catskin. Other names (and variations) include "Donkeyskin", "Tattercoats", "Cap O'Rushes", and "All-Kinds-Of-Fur". I grew up knowing it as either _Tattercoats_ or _Catskin_, I'm not precisely sure which. If you're feeling really intrepid, Wikipedia's got a whole slew of fairy tales and their variants listed. I was going through it the other day and it was rather entertaining. I recommend it if you've got the time. :)

As always, I will try and keep my profile page updated with my progress on my writing. Check there if you want to know where I'm at in doing things. :)

Thanks for reading and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did! Please, don't forget to tell me what you thought of this and give me whatever critique you feel necessary.

And so ends the super-long author's note!


	18. Composing Hallelujah

**Warnings**: Awkward silences rule!

**Chapter Eighteen**: Composing Hallelujah

The light enveloped me entirely, washing over me like a warm summer's rain and soaking me to the skin. I drank the glow, feeling intoxicated with the sheer power of the day-lit night. It was wonderful, splendorous, and better than anything I had imagined before.

Garlands of flowers lounged lazily over white fences, tumbling haphazardly down the backs of benches and twining sensuously across the delicate ironwork. Candles were everywhere, lending their fire to the already warm night. And the people, oh _the people!_ I was enthralled with them, endlessly fascinated by their beauty. The women were far lovelier than I had dreamed and the gentlemen more gallant. They bowed and curtseyed to one another, flirting through the screen of silk fans and shining top hats.

How I adored them!

Pulling back into the shadows once more, I waited for the perfect moment to enter. It came not long after a delicate minuet had just ended, and, as I stepped out into the waiting silence, I took it for my own. As soon as I took my first step, however, I began to regret my decision to pick silence as my great entrance. Perhaps a grand crescendo would have been more apropos, but I had chosen stark, plain silence to make my presence known. My hands shook and my palms were soon drenched with sweat beneath the cotton gloves. I felt a burning heat leap into my cheeks, dancing with pointed toes across my skin. Time did not stand still but rather tumbled haphazardly forward, pushing my heartbeat faster and faster and sending my blood flooding through my veins. I bit my tongue and felt the metallic tang wash through my mouth. I swallowed nervously, trying desperately to remember how breathing worked. I saw the upturned faces, watching every twitch I made. Their lips moved in murmuring sibilants, rumors leaping from tongue to tongue. I stood there, head raised high with apprehension, suffering their scrutiny and disdain.

I found Livingston quickly, the first familiar face in a sea of unknowns. He smiled encouragingly and I almost smiled back. Next to him stood Ser Thomhas, who met my gaze with an entirely too intense confidence. I shivered and turned my eyes away from them, searching desperately for some reprieve.

I felt a hand brush against me, carry it upwards and then brush lips against the back. Prince Daryan val Tännon captured my gaze and arrested my breath within a single moment. My heart ceased to beat until he spoke, waiting for his first words to me.

"Most beauteous lady, would you grace us with your name?" His voice was like molten metal pouring through me and melting my inhibitions.

There was one flaw with my plan: I hadn't bothered to think up a name. "Kelryian." My voice was lighter than air, lighter than the icing roses that decorated Livingston's cake. "Sera Kelryian dy Relandrant."

Oh, the silence. It was fast becoming familiar.

"Sera Kelryian dy Relandrant?" Daryan smiled beautifully. "We have long waited for your return." He bowed politely, apparently oblivious to the sudden storm of whispers, which gusted through the assembly. "I am Prince Daryan val Tännon."

As if I didn't know! This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment that I had dreamed of since I first laid eyes on Daryan in my father's study. Oh, what a _moment_!

"My Prince," I murmured, curtseying with sudden confidence. "I thank you for accepting my presence here."

"Oh, but I haven't accepted you yet, dear Kelryian." He smiled. "You must dance with me first. Then I shall reconsider."

I giggled at his cavalier manner, completely infatuated. "I do believe that I can agree to those terms."

"Excellent!" He lifted both of my gloved hands and pulled me forward. "Maestro, music!" He bellowed, and there was music, the most beautiful music in the entire world. It was liquid gold, swirling through the air like thick ambrosia, heady and lovely. Absolutely lovely. "I remember you, Kelryian." His lips brushed my cheek as we moved with each other. "You were such a child, then."

"It has been but a year," I reminded him.

"You have grown into the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." His lips curved into the most sensual of smiles. "You, Kelryian, are an aphrodisiac in and of yourself."

I blushed hotly, feeling entirely too warm. "My Prince, I am nothing of the sort." I gasped as his fingers curled against my neck. "I am merely myself."

"And who are you?" Daryan's voice was honey sweet on my ears. "I must know; the mystery kills me." He pulled me closer to him, until our hips touched, creating a tenuous link between us. "Where were you, sweet girl?" When I did not answer, he continued to murmur. "I remember how awkward you were, just a year ago. You knew not what you were doing, but you were stealing my heart away."

"Really?" I finally pulled away to meet the opaque grey of his eyes. "You did?"

He laughed and I felt the blood rush to my face once more. "_You_ did, Kelryian. _You_ have custody of my love." Daryan laughed again as my face burned harder. "You're even more beautiful when you blush."

"Thank you." I grinned impishly. "I should hope I'd be beautiful no matter what."

"I shouldn't doubt it." Daryan smiled that sweet, seductive smile and pulled me out of the crowd of dancers, drawing me into semi-seclusion. I could still hear the music drifting delicately through the air, coating everything it touched with an air of magic. "Kelryian, you must tell me, where have you been?"

"I've been…away." I raised my chin slightly, daring him to question me.

Not rising to my challenge, he took my hand in his. "But why?"

I thought for a moment: truth, or lie? "I was frolicking with mermaids and unicorns." I decided on the absurd.

Daryan laughed lightly. "What wit!" He exclaimed. "I suppose I must be content with that, then."

"Indeed." I smiled to soften the harshness of the single word.

"You always leave me wanting more, Kelryian." Daryan caressed the side of my face, his rough fingertips sliding down the smooth skin of my face. As he leaned closer, he murmured, "Always."

I turned away, unnerved by his intensity. "This time, as all the others."

Thankfully, he laughed at my soft rejection. "You have grown so! What has wrought such change?" He pulled me around to face him once more. "I shall tell you, something, if you will tell me nothing."

"If you wish."

"You do not want to hear what I have to say?" He looked surprised.

"No, no!" I almost tripped over my words trying to allay that fear. "I will hang on your every word, remembering each one until the day I die." It was true, too; I would listen closely.

"That's better." He tickled my throat with the tips of his fingers and the intimacy felt foreign to me. "Now, the other day, I was visited by a young lady who claimed in no uncertain terms to be an angel of the Madonna."

"No!" I giggled irreverently. "You can't be serious."

"But I am!" He protested, his eyes sparkling with laughter. "She told me that she had been blessed by the holy mother herself." Daryan's face sobered. "Do you go to the devotional still, Sera?"

"If I am allowed the chance, I do take advantage of it."

Daryan looked askance at me. "If you are allowed?"

"Weather permitting," I amended, lying as best I could. "And time permitting as well." I smiled congenially. "But this you lady, claiming to be an angel! How odd!" I giggled too loudly and cringed.

"It was strange, for she could not compare to any other angels I've seen."

"And you've seen angels before, have you?" My cavalier tone matched the devilish gleam in his eyes.

"I'm looking at one right now."

My mouth could move, the lips forming words, but my tongue refused to work and my vocal cords produce no sounds.

"Cat got your tongue?" Daryan's hand slid around my waist, pulling me toward him. "Come, we shall dance and you will have to speak no more." We slipped back into the crowd, melting into them while still, unbelievably, staying completely separate.

In the end, my social graces did not fail me and I waltzed my way through the night, fending off hesitant forays from some handsome young men and mingling politely with the ladies. I finally met Ceryn fa Gelder in person and tried my best not to giggle the moment I knew her name. She was, all in all, a nice woman, if sometimes slightly vapid. I was introduced to so many different members of the gentry that I quickly forgot most of their names. A storm of names pounded through my head, bumping into one another as I tried to place the face that I was looking at.

Finally, I saw a familiar face. "Livingston," I breathed, almost smiling. "I shall return shortly," I murmured to Daryan and those surrounding me. They noted my passing but briefly, resuming their conversation with barely a pause. Only Daryan let his gaze linger on me as I maneuvered toward Livingston.

"Finally, oh sweet Madonna, Livingston, I have been looking for you all night." I took a deep breath. "You never told me that there would be so many people!"

"I thought you knew." His words were cool and low, refreshing after the endless chatter of the gentry. "You sounded as if you did."

"I had no idea."

"There are a lot of people." Livingston's lips quirked up. "I've told you, now."

"Indeed you have and fat lot of good it does me now." I made sure to smile to show that I spoke merely in jest. "But anyway, this is wonderful!"

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." My friend made a stiff, half bow as an aristo strolled past us. "Don't you think it's rather odd that you're talking to me?"

"No." I shrugged. "They won't either. I am eccentric, now." I grinned. "It's so fun being eccentric. I can do so many forbidden things."

Livingston suddenly became guarded. "Like what? Nothing dangerous, I hope."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course not. What danger could I get into here?" He didn't reply, serving me only with a disparaging look. "Yes, well, perhaps some trouble lurks about here and there. Like your Ser Thomhas. He might just give me away."

"I might what, Sera?"

I bit my lip, not relishing the idea of having to turn around.

"Sera Kelryian, I am waiting." Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo did not sound angry, merely amused. "Shall I count to three?"

"If you wish." Obligingly, I turned to face him, feeling a cool breeze tiptoe down my neck as Livingston removed himself from us.

"Now, Sera Kelryian, I must admit, Prince Daryan has monopolized your attention all night." Thomhas' eyes were kind with only the slightest hint of mockery in them. "I too, would like to get to know you."

"If I am not mistaken, we have met before." I lowered my eyes from his even as a hot flush reared its crimson head.

"Indeed." A single, black gloved hand rose to graze my own. "May I request a dance, or are you too weary for dancing?"

"I suppose that I could stomach one more dance." I held out my hand to him and he took it like a perfect gentleman. We walked together over the field that had been transformed into a splendorous place fit for dancing and revelry, my arm barely touching his.

"I believe," He spoke suddenly, catching me off guard, "That the last time we met, you were also sequestering yourself away from the rest of us instead of dancing."

"This is true," I agreed politely. "And I believe that, on that occasion, you informed me of your habit of eating small children."

He had the grace to blush at that. "Perhaps I did, Sera Kelryian." We took our place among the other revelers, his hand curling genteelly around my waist. "I apologize for my rather odd habits now."

"Perhaps I shall forgive you." Thomhas kept his gaze directed somewhere over my shoulder as I smiled awkwardly up at him.

He cast a quick glance my way, bemusement peppering his expression. "Thank you."

The rest of the waltz we were dancing maintained a comfortable silence; I was content to let myself flow into the music and forget about the rest of my life for the moment. I was no longer pretending to be someone I wasn't, though doubtless some thought I was. No more did I have to scrub pots and stain benches, or stir the potage in the morning. For tonight, I was allowed luxury. I would not have to wash the dishes that I dirtied; someone else was there to do it. I would not have to put a crying child to sleep, or comfort her when she woke from nightmares. Tonight, I did not have to worry about paying rent or paying anything. Tonight was simply my night.

I sighed almost mournfully when the waltz ended; I had liked the security of being held carefully, under someone else's protection. "Thank you," I murmured.

"You are a delightful partner," Thomhas murmured.

I demurred. "I am no more so than any other lady here tonight, perhaps even less."

"Don't be so sure; you are one of the first tonight to have missed my toes." He flashed me a charming smile. "That was much appreciated, Sera."

"Ah! Kelryian, there you are!" Daryan's arm was suddenly linked through mine as he expertly interposed himself between Thomhas and me. "I have been looking everywhere for you!"

I made a wry face. "I was merely waltzing. 'Twasn't as if I'd run off."

"Ah, but you've been known to do that before!" His smile curved around me in glowing, satiny ribbons of joy. "I must thank Ser Thomhas for making sure that you stayed put."

"You need not, Daryan." Thomhas looked as if he were repressing a smile and so his face was contorted into a most awkward grimace. "Really."

"But Thom! Without you, I might have lost sweet Kelryian!" Daryan squeezed my hand. "Really, what can I do to repay you?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." My former partner sketched a bow.

"Well, then don't you have something to say to me?"

"Yes, I really must speak with you about that." I rolled my eyes. He was being cryptic, just as he had been with Livingston.

Daryan was eager, jumping at Thomhas' every word. "Do say it, Thom."

"Now? You are entertaining a lady. It would be rude of me to interrupt." With that, Ser Thomhas strode away, disappearing between twittering ladies and gallant young men.

"That was odd." I tilted my head toward Daryan. "Don't you think?"

"For Thom? Never." He shrugged. "Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" I was all wide-eyed innocence.

Daryan laughed and my heart skipped several beats. "I believe we shall go chat with Larius for a while. You remember him, don't you?" I nodded, vaguely remember a well dressed gentleman who happened to look very similar to every other well dressed gentlemen present. "He's a tall one, you'll like him."

The rest of the night continued in such a fashion, with Daryan pulling me from one group of aristos to another. I talked to each in turn, and they all asked me questions. It appeared that Ulga had been right; I had become some sort of underground celebrity among them. Each of them wanted excitement and they thought I had been brave enough to go and claim it. I resisted the urge to tell them tthe truth; my life was not nearly as exciting as they all assumed. I, however, let them hold on to their dreams. I told them nothing of what I had really been up to; I let them create elaborate stories for me. They seemed to believe the lies they told themselves, too.

Finally, as the night flowed into dawn, the gentry began to slip away, one by one paying their respects to Daryan and, inadvertently, to me. We were still together, linked at the elbows, as the last aristos made their obeisance and departed. "Kelryian, darling," Daryan whispered into my ear, his lips brushing just so against the sensitive flesh. "Come, we should leave as well."

"Indeed I must." As much as I longed to slip into bed, and more specifically, his bed, I knew that I could not. Cansin and Tanlin expected me in several hours time to arrive with breakfast and be ready to work. I shivered as his breath darted lower, snaking around my throat. "I must go home."

Although he looked disappointed, Daryan did not protest my decision. "If you must, you must." He sighed. "But where might I find you, should I look for you?"

"I don't believe you'll come looking for me." I gave him a sleepy grin. "You'll be too busy with all sorts of princely activities."

"But I will, Kelryian, I will, you must believe me." He looked so earnest that I felt my heart melt. "Tell me, where can I find you?"

I bit my lip. "At the sign of the painted bench," I told him finally. Perhaps he could figure it out, despite my evasive answer. Cansin and Tanlin had plenty of gorgeously painted benches near their workshop, but then again, so did many other artisans.

"That's no answer at all!" Daryan finally faced me, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Tell me, please."

"I'll come to one of these things again." Deliberately, I did not answer his question. "I promise I will. But 'til then, I shall be near the painted benches."

As he slipped his arms around my waist, whispering, "I can't wait that long, dearest," I felt a strange sensation welling in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps it was too much wine, but I suspected it to be fear. What would I do once Daryan had claimed me for his own? Could I handle the change? A shiver did a jig down my spine and I pulled away from his embrace.

"Daryan, my Prince, I am forever yours, but I must go now."

"Are you?" Suddenly, we were much too close for comfort. "If you are really forever mine, then you will tell me where I can find you." He was terrifyingly serious. "I need to know, Kelryian. I must know." His eyes were alight with a terrible, passionate fire. "Kelryian." His voice broke.

"If you need me, come find me." Though I broke his hold on my hips, his gaze yet held me captive. "Please." When I turned and walked away from him, he did not follow me. I looked back once, and that served only to confirm that he, too, had gone away.

The morning was mine for the taking, the first light of the sun breaking giddily over the horizon line. I danced again, alone and without reservation. I spun around in drunken circles, happy beyond my wildest imagining. My dreams were finally being realized.

**Author's Note**: I had a difficult time getting this chapter down and I'm not entirely sure why. The important thing, however, is that it's done! Hooray for that! As always, your feedback is appreciated! I am of the opinion that this chapter was a little stilted at some points. What do you think? Other than, I'm okay with it.

Thank you in advance for your help!


	19. Champagne

**Warnings:** It's kind of short...

**Chapter Nineteen**: Champagne

"For the love of all things beautiful, stop whining!" Tanlin glared at me, a chisel stuck behind her ear. "I don't care that you've a headache! You're giving me one!" Cansin nodded in agreement, chewing soundlessly on a sweet bun.

My head throbbed with a pulse of its own. Every sound, from the tiniest scrabbling of a mouse to the banging on the door, threatened to knock me senseless. "Sorry," I mumbled. "So sorry." I had been delegated the task of sweeping the floor. Every stroke of the broom made my head spin.

"What's wrong with you?" Cansin grabbed another bun. "Were you out late last night?"

A nod sufficed as my answer. A nod that made my world do a sickening reel.

"She drank too much, obviously." Tanlin jerked her head in my direction. "See how she won't stand up and refuses to actually sweep the floor? Hangover's my bet as to what's got her."

I wanted to look her right in the eye and tell her that I was a Sera, a member of the gentry, and that I, by all rights, should not be working. I wanted to inform her that I had the favor of Prince Daryan val Tännon and that I had been too loyal to the twins to leave with him when he had asked me to. I, however, could not find the effort to do more than moan again.

"Oh. I shall never drink." Cansin was the paragon of morality, refraining from drink, harsh language, and anything else that might damage her reputation.

"Of course you won't," Tanlin scoffed. "You'd be drunk with the first sip." Tanlin, on the other hand, was a regular patron of the local taverns; she had stories to tell us if she could remember them. "Besides, I'd never let you. You're my sister." Tanlin always watched out for Cansin, I had learned.

"I'm going to be sick," I announced.

"We're not that sentimental." One half of my employer glared at me.

My only answer was a muffled shriek before I dove out the door, saying good bye to both breakfast and my hopes of a good day.

That evening didn't go much better; immediately when I returned home to collapse on my pallet, Thamry clambered into my lap and demanded a story. When I refused, her sweet eyes widened and began to shimmer with potential tears. I decided that stories were easier dealt with than tantrums and tears.

"Once upon a time," I began, feeling little knees and elbows jab into me as my audience made herself comfortable, "There was a beautiful girl named Thamry. She never stopped smiling and was always polite to everyone. Never in her life had she ever demanded anything from anyone, choosing instead to say please and thank you." I had learned from Alary that there was no better time than story time for trying to teach Thamry manners. "Her father and mother loved her very much and they always told her so. Every night before she went to sleep, her mother would kiss her on the forehead and her father would tug on her ear." As I demonstrated, Thamry giggled. "Now, one day, an old man showed up at their doorstep and knocked on the door. When beautiful Thamry's father opened it, he demanded to see her. He said that he wanted to marry her."

"No!" An elbow knocked the wind out of me as Thamry sat up straight. "That's bad!"

"Just you wait," I murmured to her, trying to regain my breath. "That very night, Thamry escaped, taking with her nothing but a pair of fine dancing shoes."

The real Thamry snorted. "What's she going to use those for?" So young yet so practical!

"You'll see," I scolded her again. "Stop interrupting." Once she had quieted, I continued again. "Now, Thamry ran away with her fine dancing shoes until she reached the edge of the world. When she reached the edge, she sat down and rested for a while because it had been a long walk. Thamry felt certain that the old man couldn't find her here. As she sat there, dangling her feet over the edge of the world, a star slid precariously close to the edge of the earth and Thamry watched it in fascination. Finally, it came close enough that she could see all the things that were happening on the star." My fingers did a dance across Thamry's shoulders. "There were thousands of people on the star- no, not people, Thamry realized, but elves!"

"Oh, I like this story!" Thamry was grinning like a little fool, completely caught up in my story. "I like elves."

I smiled softly down at her, the pounding headache that had plagued me for the day beginning to ease. "And then, do you know what happened? One of the elves reached out and offered Thamry his hand. He swept her up onto the star and she put her dancing slippers on. That night, she danced like she never had before, her feet lighter than air in those shoes. The next morning, after they had danced their hearts out and lay, exhausted, amidst the stardust, the elf asked the beautiful girl to marry him and she said yes. They were married within days and lived happily together for the rest of their days." I sighed, quietly changing the names of the characters around. _Thamry_ became _Kelryian_ and the elf was named Daryan.

"I liked that story." Thamry declared. "Tell me another one!"

"No, no, Thamry," Alary said, swooping in. "Catskin has had enough for one night. Maybe tomorrow she'll tell you another."

Thamry pouted but let her mother scoop her up. "Tomorrow night I get two stories."

I sighed. "Maybe. But only if you're good." Thamry promised and I waved her goodnight. Shortly after I heard her sleepy murmurings stop, Alary slipped back into the little nook that I inhabited.

"Catskin, you um…" She paused, as if unsure of how to continue. "Livingston is here. He's positively frantic." The words tumbled out of her mouth chaotically.

"Did he say why?" Alary shook her head. "Where is he?" I realized it was a stupid question as soon as I said it; I could see him hovering in the doorway. "Livingston, really." I got to my feet and practically pushed him out into the street. I wasn't too keen on having Alary listen in.

"What did you think you were _doing_?" He glared at me. "That was the stupidest thing I think I've know you to do. Ever. How could you endanger yourself like that. You do realize that if they discover you're not really Sera dy Relandrant, they're going to mete out some form of punishment." Livingston was angrier than I had ever seen him before. He was almost as angry as my father could get when presented with a particularly frustrating matter.

"Livingston, calm down." I placed my hands on his shoulders and dragged him out of the middle of the road. We were getting some very strange stares coming our way.

"No! I will not!" His hands were suddenly tight around my arms. "You acted stupidly, Catskin. It was risky! You did not—should not—have done that!" Livingston's voice has escalated to the point of being deafening at close range.

"Everything will be fine!" I protested once more, but it did no good.

"Everything will _not_ be _fine_!" He practically spat at me. "You have no sense in that head of yours and I refuse to help you should you ever decide to go to one of those things again. I won't have you throwing yourself at Daryan just so he can use you and leave you for the next pretty, brainless girl-child that comes along. Don't fool yourself that he loves you, Catskin." His bitter invective shocked me to the very core of my being. Furious now, he continued, taking full advantage of my stunned silence. "You are just like the rest of us, dirty, smelly and of no high birth to catapult you to places that you shouldn't be. He won't ever see you as anything more than that, not after he finds out that you're one of us. And don't think he won't know! Of course he'll know that you aren't what you say you are— how could you be?"

As Livingston paused to draw breath, I took my chance. "He'll never know."

"He will. Daryan always knows."

"No." My hands found themselves cupping his face gently, although I had no idea how they had gotten there. "Livingston, listen to me. He will never know. I have perfected who I am to him and I will never be found out. I can't be found out, do you understand me?"

He shook his head slowly from side to side. "Not at all."

A breathy sigh escaped my lips. "Don't try, then. Just…accept it." I looked into his eyes, those dark, bottomless eyes that were so familiar and pleaded silently with him.

He was the first to look away. "I can't."

"Please." I rose on tiptoe and brushed his rough cheek with my lips. "Tomorrow is an early day for me."

He sighed and drew me close. "Do not let it be a long night. I worry about you."

I grinned impishly up at him, desperate to break the tension that had been building between us. "Don't. Thamry will surely keep me in line."

Livingston's smile was only half-hearted. "A six-year-old will never keep you in line. Not even I can manage that."

Uneasy once more at the revival of the worry that he held for me, I took a step backwards. "You'd be surprised." A flighty smile traipsed across my face. "I'll need to borrow your room again when I decide it's time." I didn't dare look back at his face as I returned to the house. I knew I wouldn't like what I would see there. Livingston called after me, but the closing of the door behind me cut off his words.

Alary looked askance at me but refrained from questioning me. Claudio, however, had no such compunctions. "So, Kitty-kins, what was that you and Livingston were fighting over? A lovers' quarrel?"

Alary shot him an angry look. "Claudio, please."

I smiled gaily. "Nothing of the sort! It was merely a lively discussion."

"Passionate?" Claudio was almost hopefully.

"Really, you're worse than a woman." Alary plunged a dish into the soapy water that filled the tub before her. "Don't be such a gossip."

I shrugged. "Gossip is the fodder of the court, is it not? Perhaps Claudio would be better suited to life as a court flower. Think of all the beautiful dresses he'd wear…" I dodged the half-hearted pinch that Claudio sent my way.

"I'd much rather be an ostler than one of those daft ninnies." The big man shuddered. "And I'd break their corsets anyway." Even Alary couldn't completely suppress at smile.

"It'd give you a much-needed waistline." My tone was solemn as I informed him of flaws. "And give you a little _oomph_ up here." I gestured suggestively at my chest, mimicking the curves of my own body.

"Your brother would be far more suited to that than me," Claudio offered by way of excuse, earning him another dark glare from Alary. "I was just _saying_!" He ducked the wet rag that his wife tossed at him.

I left them to their own devices as I beat a hasty retreat to my corner of the house, not bothering to pay much more attention to their banter. As darkness fell, I slipped into sleep, dreaming of Daryan and elegant balls. In my dreams I danced and in my dreams I was the most beautiful girl alive—the only girl Daryan had eyes for. Even in sleep, my lips stretched softly in a sleepy, sated smile.

For now, dreams were enough. In the morning, it would be different.

In the morning, I bundled up another basket of sweet rolls for Cansin and made my way through the city. It was a beautiful summer morning; the birds sang through as-of-yet cool morning air, heralding and wonderful day to come. I fairly skipped along the main avenue, finally taking my deserved pleasure in the ball. I had pulled it off! I had passed myself off as Sera Kelryian! Granted, I was Sera Kelryian, so it wasn't too difficult, but no one had questioned me. For one night, I had been stunningly gorgeous, the belle of the ball!

I hugged the sweet bread to my chest and grinned privately, not caring overly much that I undoubtedly had dirt smeared across my nose, not caring that I was dressed in a frock that looked exactly like all the other girls' and not caring that no one knew my true name. I was happy, for a single moment.

It, however, was only a single moment. After that moment, I was _ecstatic_.

"Make way for Prince Daryan val Tännon!" A herald cried, his high stepping horse nervous in the crowded street. "Prince Daryan val Tännon!" The poor man in the royal colors had little luck with the jaded population of the causeway. The herald finally gave up and bellowed, "Shove off, the lot of you! Your Prince comes this way!"

In the end, it was the _shove off_ and a few other choice words that convinced the people to shuffle to the sides of the street and make way for Daryan.

_My true love_.

"Hey, you! Miss!" A horse heaved behind me, its hot breath stirring my hair in short, terrified bursts. "Move out of the way!"

I, apparently, had been the only one not to make room for my beloved Daryan. I stumbled into a waiting cushion of people, helped along by a nudge from the horse. I nodded perfunctorily to the man who stopped my fall and then whirled around to watch Daryan's procession.

My euphoria faded rapidly as the clip-clop of hoof beats beat out the same, steady rhythm until I could no longer hear them at all.

**Author's Note**: So, I had this sitting on my laptop for a couple of days just chilling before I realized that _Oh! This chapter is done!_ And then I promptly went back to sleep to try and stave off a cold. But here it is! I'm sorry about the pseudo-cliffhanger (not really :P) but next chapter…should dovetail nicely, I think. That's all I've got for now…I'm off to watch movies in which things go BOOM!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And remember, any constructive criticism you have is highly valued and treasured! Thanks:)


	20. Painted Benches

**Warnings**: Flashbacks! Sort of…

**Chapter Twenty**: Painted Benches

The specter in the cassock towered over the sparsely populated dawn devotional, his religious invective ringing throughout the domed ceiling. I prayed fervently that he would end his tirade soon. I was bored with his instruction on the vices of wine and pleasure; he had given this sermon one too many times. Finally, I gave up paying attention and sank into a stupor of daydreams.

That day, over a week ago now, had been a never ending fluctuation of emotions. I had trudged the rest of the way to the workshop, only to be met by Cansin as I was about to turn onto the street. She was far too flustered to speak and so only gestured frantically that I follow her. I did so, and, as we snuck in through the back door, I noticed Tanlin silhouetted against the window.

"What's going on?" The words were too loud in the silent workshop.

"Prince Daryan!" Cansin squeezed my hand, giddy with delight. "Oh, isn't it so wonderful? All my life, I thought I'd never see a member of the royal family, let alone the Prince himself!" It was probably the most I'd heard her say all in one go—apparently, my dear Cansin was suddenly in love with Daryan, just as I had been for over a year.

But, unfortunately for her, she could never have him.

I could, though, and I planned to. My love was true love, unlike her paltry, common adoration of her sovereign. My lips were about to part and release the most heart rending words intended to dash her hopes, but I stopped myself. How petty could I be, to wish death and destruction on another's hopes and dreams? I settled for a heady sigh instead, creeping forward to huddle next to Tanlin.

Tanlin, of course, felt no such affection for my handsome Prince. "Look at the snotty bastard," She whispered gleefully, "He's down here in the dirt with us, for once!"

"Tanlin!" A look of pure hurt was smeared across Cansin's face. I had trouble stifling my giggle.

"She's right you know," I chimed in. "It's not often he deigns to lower himself to this level." Daryan chose that moment to head towards our shop, so my comment went unnoticed.

Cansin clamped on to my arm, wielding a grip tighter than any vise. "It's him! He's coming! Oh, dear, isn't this exciting?"

The blood drained from my face, leaving it cool and perfectly alabaster. The world seemed to spin around me, no longer heliocentric. My hands shook and sweat pooled in the palm of my hand. Daryan was coming and I was dressed in the meanest of clothes. _It wouldn't do_, I chastised myself. Desperately, I dragged my damp fingers through my messy hair, taming the fly away pieces of hair with perspiration. I watched him emerge from the sunlight, a halo of pure light lingering around his raven hair even as he stepped into shadow. I felt Cansin tugging on my elbow, begging me to get up so that I might make a proper obeisance to my sovereign, but I remained where I was, kneeling on the floor.

Daryan had entered the workshop in a rush of sudden noise and caught breath. Tanlin had bowed and Cansin has curtseyed, but I had remained on the dirty floor, praying with a hope that had been perverted by terror that he would not notice me. The prayer was granted but for one thing; Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo stood steadfast at Daryan's side and bid me to rise. And rise I did, stretching upwards like a sapling to the sun, unfurling petals and reaching towards a higher purpose. I rose like Aphrodite from the sea, mysterious and lovely all at once.

But, in the end, it was all for naught.

"Artisans are you all, yes?" Daryan's tone was dismissive. "Have you seen a maid pass through here with eyes of azure and hair of gold? She would be well dressed and exquisitely beautiful. If I am not mistaken, she'll answer to the name Kelryian." His eyes swept over the three of us, examining us in turn. I did not look up for still, the perverse idea that he might not recognize me in such a dreadful state pervaded my heart and will.

"We see many people," Tanlin offered finally, the only one of us with the presence of mind to actually formulate a sentence. "There are plenty of aristos who pass by, and even more pretty girls pretending to be." She shrugged. "We apologize if we are of no help."

Silently, I cursed the girl, willing all sorts of plagues upon her and her offspring. How had she not recognized me? I felt that I was quite obviously a member of that elite upper class which she so despised. Why couldn't she see it? But then I remembered; for so many months, I had lived but one life, relying on the protection that it gave me from my aristocratic peers. I had demanded of my disguise complete impenetrability by common eyes and it had been quite successful. Although I lamented its success now, I was mollified by it as well.

"Thom, stay and question them more. You saw how Larius did it. Come join us when you are finished." And just like that, all traces of Daryan but for one were gone.

"Good ladies, please, forgive our sovereign. He has much on his mind." Thomhas smiled as I finally looked up. "Tis good to see you again, Catskin."

I kept the grimace from contorting my face with the greatest of efforts. "And you, milord."

"Would you care to introduce me to your companions?" Thomhas sketched a bow in their direction. "I am so rarely in the presence of such women as yourselves and I am afraid I know not all the protocol."

Tanlin took over after I had hesitated for too long. "It's simple. I'm Tanlin, she's Cansin and you already know Catskin." She crossed her arms. "Your turn."

"I am Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo, but please, don't bother with formalities. Any friend of Catskin's is a friend of mine, and when among friends, I prefer to go by one name only." Thomhas was an adept at dealing with women, I could tell. His chivalrous actions were perfected beyond compare.

"How may we help you, Ser Thomhas, so that you might be on your way?" Both Tanlin and I were stunned by Cansin's voice. She so rarely spoke in our presence that it was a miracle to hear her speak to a stranger with such temerity.

He smiled. "May I sit?" When he had settled himself, he continued. "As Prince Daryan has already announced, I am looking for a girl. She is of medium height with blonde hair and blue eyes. Daryan is quite taken with her at the moment. He believes her to be quite the beauty, but just last month he said the same thing of Sera Ashle dy Sharteth."

"I didn't know you were one to gossip," I observed wryly.

He caught my eye. "I'm not." His face broke into a grin, shedding its solemn expression. "But, betimes, it is nice to speak the truth of a man that one adores. And apart from that, it's not exactly a secret that our Prince is a womanizer."

Subdued, I resigned myself to listening and forbade myself to speak again.

"I'm sure he'd call anything beautiful, to get it into his bed." Tanlin, ever frank and ever crass, snorted derisively. "Even I've heard the stories." She looked pointedly at her sister. "So have you, isn't that right?" Cansin merely nodded.

Thomhas sighed. "Perhaps one day our dear Prince will find the right woman to suit him." A smile curled around my lips, settling in like a cat. "But I doubt it will be soon." When another look was directed towards me, I felt my suspicions rise to the surface again.

How much did Thomhas know? I assumed from the looks that he was giving me, he at least surmised that I was the same girl who had come uninvited to the summer soiree and claimed to be Kelryian dy Relandrant. I wasn't sure, however, if he knew that I really was Kelryian dy Relandrant. I wasn't entirely confident that I wanted to find out. Thomhas had created too many problems. I remembered all of the intimate moments we had shared over the past year and began to wonder if he kept such memories as I did.

I remembered his lips, so close to mine, finally touching with the merest hint of hesitation. I could recall the exquisite details of the texture of them, the soft pressure that seemed to suck the breath from my very lungs…

It was at this moment that the presbyter called to attention the masses and ordered a hymn sung in order of the Madonna and her Holy Child. Dutifully, I rose, and sent my voice soaring to the heavens like a prayer, hoping it winged through the sky like the ceremonial doves that leapt into the air. I prayed silently, begging for guidance and help, but most of all, I prayed that Livingston would cooperate when I showed up at his dormitory the following evening.

Chase answered the door when I called upon Ulga that evening, his usually stoic face split by a small smile. "Good evening, Sera." In the deepening corners of his mouth, I saw that he was glad I had come again so quickly.

"It's good to see you, Chase." Quickly, I slipped into the house and threw back the hood of my cloak. I had given up wearing the Catskin cloak for the summer months and instead had taken to wearing a fine confection from an unknown benefactor. I had confronted Ulga about the ethereal thing but she had claimed no knowledge of it. It was a mystery that I hadn't solved.

"May I take that for you, lady?" Chase delicately peeled the fabric away from my shoulders and I sighed in relief. Despite the sheerness of the cloak, it was still stifling in the oppressive humidity.

"You are divine," I murmured to him, letting a quick smile fly to my lips. Ulga had expressed her displeasure before at my manners when interacting with her staff, so I tried to refrain from fraternizing too openly. I had, however, become to accustomed to the comfortable way that the lower classes interacted with one another and so acted according to what I dealt with on a daily basis. Ulga despaired that all her hard work was for naught.

"Kelryian!"

She had startled me; Ulga was always wont to make as grand an entrance as possible. "Ulga, it's lovely to see you!"

"No, my dearest, it is you who are lovely!" She kissed my cheeks merrily, leaving sticky patches wherever her lips touched. "And dearest, if you don't mind me saying, when I saw you the other night, you were simply angelic. I don't care if that is blasphemous; by the Madonna and child, girl, you have grown into a woman before I even noticed."

I smothered a sigh. "Time does fly." I met Ulga's gaze and smiled prettily. "I didn't get a chance to find you before, and I'm dreadfully sorry about that. Can you ever forgive me?"

My governess was all smiles. "Of course, Kelryian! I was so proud to see my little Kelryian out there dancing with Prince Daryan, of all people. I do believe he has taken a fancy to you, you know."

A blush burned crimson through my cheeks. I did know, especially after the events that had transpired so recently. "Oh, really? Do you think so?" I was appalled at the vacuous tone I had somehow adopted, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. "I had so hoped that he would remember me…"

"Silly girl, how could he forget you? Especially after you piqued his interest with those mysterious parting words of yours! He wouldn't stop talking about you for _days_ and _days_!" Ulga was prone to exaggeration, I knew that, but I couldn't keep the hope from bubbling with in me.

"Days, you say?" Despite my efforts to appear uninterested, the words came out breathy and rushed. "Oh, Ulga, this is _wonderful_, absolutely wonderful!" I caught myself before I started spinning in circles; that might be a bit overdone, even for a girl in love. "What has he been saying about me?"

"This and that, you know." Ulga pinched my cheek to silence my protests. "I know, you don't know. I'll tell you eventually, don't worry." Her painted lips parted in a scarlet smile. "I do believe most of the ladies of the court are quite jealous."

"Who wouldn't be?" I sank into one of the overstuffed lounges that were spread about the spacious room. "Out of all the beautiful women in the world, he chooses me!"

Ulga's smile did not diminish, though she cautioned me. "He hasn't chosen you yet, darling, but he will. Do not worry your beautiful head." Then her smile inched upwards and crinkled around her eyes. "Only those who are married or have no feeling at all aren't jealous of you." I laughed giddily, begging for more. "He's said that you are the most beautiful creature on earth and that he hopes to snare you as you have him." Our conversation continued long into the afternoon and that afternoon was the most perfect thing that I had ever known. Nothing could bring me down from my heavenly high; I was untouchable.

By evening, Ulga, though still proud, had grown tired and informed me that she would retire. Chase, she told me, would get me anything I needed or desired. I was surprised by her being so tired so early, but after I heard the whispered words of the maids float down about a secret liaison with an unknown man, I understood entirely.

"Might I get you any refreshments, Sera?" Chase stood before me, his hands folded neatly in front of him. "Or do you wish only to be alone?"

"Sit, Chase, and if you address me as Sera once more, I think I shall go mad."

"As you wish." He settled onto the chair across from me, making himself comfortable. "It has been a rather long time since my mistress has been so…occupied."

I giggled. "Do you know who it is?"

"I am not obliged to say."

I sighed in disappointment; he didn't know, but was being polite about it. "Very well." For a brief moment, there was silence. "Chase, have you heard any stories about Prince Daryan being a womanizer?"

He almost snorted. "Perhaps."

"Be honest."

"Yes, I have." The manservant folded his arms over his chest. "But I'll not tell you, sweet girl."

"I…I need to know."

He met my gaze steadily. "You'll not like them. Do you still want me to tell you what I know?"

I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, thinking. Did I really want to drag musty skeletons out of the closet? After a relatively long deliberation, I shook my head. "I suppose it is best that you don't tell me. I should not base my judgment on something that is in the past when he has become a new person."

The butler looked surprised, but nodded. "If you are truly curious, anyone you ask would know such a thing." Words seemed poised at the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated. "Do you…" A pause, and then he continued. "Do you wish to collect the second dress?"

"I do."

The second dress was as silver as the moon, radiant in its pale, simplistic glory. I could not help but admire the dress as Chase held it up for my inspection. The bodice, I knew, would conform to me, clinging to my every curve. The skirt flared out into a full skirt, gathered in bunches like the pocks on the very surface of the moon. I fairly worshipped the gown, even in the half-light I saw it in. A cry caught in my throat as it was folded into its box, shut away from my view. I did not want it to go. It settled heavily into my arms, the paper surrounding it crinkling and sighing with my every motion. I cuddled it closely, clutching it to my breast as I had Thamry on many nights, delighted and not wanting to let go.

"Kelryian." When Chase spoke my name, I jumped slightly. "Kelryian, you should be going. Evening has come and is in danger of slipping into night." He helped me to my feet, his careful hand cool in mine.

As I stood in the frame of the door, one foot in either of the worlds I love, Chase reached up and pulled the hood of the effervescent cloak over my head. I murmured a quick, "Thank you," and then slipped out the door. His paternal look followed me until I turned the corner, making sure that I was safe for as long as he possibly could.

It was nice to know that someone cared.

**Author's Note**: So this was a nice chapter, I though. I had fun. I hope you enjoyed it too! There were a couple things that I had questions about, though. Firstly, should I have continued the scene with Thom/Tanlin/Cansin/Kelry any longer? Or was it fine where I cut it off? Secondly, does Kelry's relationship with Chase seem okay/real? Let me know what you think. :)

In other news…if you're into really cool movies, go see _300_! I saw it this past weekend and _wow_! Amazing! It was love at first sight…That's all I've got for now! Hopefully, the next chapter will come swiftly so that I might post.

Your feedback is always appreciated (you know that by now!) and I just want to say thank you for sticking with me so far! D

Yours truly,

EvenSong


	21. Round Two

**Warnings**: I've been reading too many cheap romance novels…

**Chapter 21**: Round Two

It was the night that held me close at first, caressing my skin with the sweetest of touches. The breezes danced around me, stirring the lunar planes of my dress with delicate and wistful touches, as if the moon herself was rife with envy. I descended to the level of the others with a grace that befit the stars, slow and stately yet ever moving.

The second to hold me close and run his tender fingers across exposed skin was my prince himself, gentle with both touch and words. He whispered to me as we flowed regally across the lawn, each too enthralled with the other to look in any other direction. His lips murmured words that I did not hear, but I felt their movement and his hot breath brushing so licentiously across my skin. It was deliciously wonderful, feeling his body pressed hard and flush with mine. His hands explored the mountainous terrain of my spine and the smooth plains of my back, leaving no territory uncharted. Perhaps it was too much, too soon, but I did not care.

Livingston, however, did care, and protested every time his gaze glanced off of mine. He pled silently with me to be more careful, more moderate in my actions, but I ignored him. It was not until Ceryn fa Gelder slipped a hand between Daryan and me, pushing me away effectively while capturing the prince entirely.

If life bowed to my every whim, I suppose that perhaps Daryan would have pushed her aside immediately in favor of me, but he did not. Instead, I was left to stand, alone for a few, wretched seconds. Soon enough, however, I was caught up in the whirlwind embrace of a thousand peacocks, or so it seemed to me. They pecked at me as peacocks were wont to do, finding the cracks in my skin and exploiting my weaknesses for a single tidbit of nourishing gossip.

"What is he like, our Prince?"

"Do his fingers really have magic in them?"

"And what of his lips?"

Their questions came quickly, fluttering through my ears and across my face with their breathy inquiries. The ladies of the Tännon court brushed me with their feathered, fashionable fans, ticking my skin and sending shivers clambering up and down my spine.

"Tell us, Kelryian, where have you been?"

"Why did you leave?"

"Oh, yes, where have you been?"

"How is it that you've come back?"

The barrage of questions never seemed to cease, the endless firing wearing me thin. I could not find the words to answer them, nor could I find the breath. My tongue was heavy and dry in my mouth, nervous as I was. I felt suffocated by their perfumed presence, stifled in the tight knot of people that surrounded me. Perhaps I was merely being melodramatic, but perhaps not. I shivered with an unexpected cold as a breath of air wafted over me. I answered each question dutifully, the words pouring from my mouth as if I merely recited my answers.

"My, what an ordeal! How ever did you manage without anyone to help you?"

"And your virtue! It is miraculous that you've kept it."

"Practically unbelievable, some would say."

"I've always thought that pirates were most…ravishing, if you know what I mean."

"If I weren't engaged…oh the things I would do!"

"You had that liberty, Kelryian, didn't you?"

"Did you?"

"Yes, yes, did you?"

These questions made me uncomfortable, but I smoothly lied with each new answer I had to give, making up the past year with reckless abandon. I prayed to any deity that would have me that I wouldn't have to remember any of what I said. As wine sloshed into my glass, I downed it, loving how the cool liquid soothed my throat. My life's story became wildly fantastic; not only had I been sold to pirates but I had fallen in love with one as well, and he with me, though I had found out moments before my great escape that his affection had been nothing but a farce. The months I had spent traveling from some coastal country to our own, lovely Tännon had been hard, but I had survived on the kindness of others and some women who seemed remarkably akin to fairies. I don't know how much of this tripe that my willing audience believed, but it was certainly entertaining to tell. It kept my mind off of Daryan's willing abandonment of me for Ceryn.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of ridiculous lies, the gaggle of costumed women around me dispersed, leaving only a few of the tenacious to remain behind. They closed in, forming and even tighter circle around me, knitting me into their cadre with seamless grace.

"Kelryian, please, we only want the truth." One of them, a girl with a particularly pointy face nosed up to me, her eyes full of disingenuous sincerity. "This is just an assumed identity, isn't it?"

I, affronted, placed a hand delicately on her lace-covered arm. "No, my dear Sera, it is not." I leaned in conspiratorially. "If it were, I would have told you of all people by now."

She, however, was not impressed with my cavalier response. "I do not believe you. Sera Kelryian would not debase herself like you have, groveling in front of our Prince as _you_ do."

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. If only she _knew_. "Actually, Sera—I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name—Prince Daryan and I are rather infatuated with each other. It's been that way since I was fifteen." She practically snarled at my sudden forgetfulness. "I'm sorry that you doubt me so."

At that moment, Daryan inserted himself quite handily into our little sphere of conversation. "Kelryian, darling, you must forgive me for being so easily carried away from you." His lips left lingering trail of excitement across my cheek. "Please, may I take you away from these lovely ladies?"

"Only with the deepest of regrets," I murmured, laughing, in his ear.

His smile in return brightened my heart. "I can't believe you'd want to leave _that_ particular crowd." Daryan brushed a stray hair off of my shoulder. "You certainly didn't belong with them---'twas like seeing a rose amidst a sea of spiteful, petty thorns."

I laughed willingly at those unfortunates' misfortune and gladly forgot them in an instant. "You aren't much better, you know." My whisper was for his ears only. "You've snared me as surely as thorns might snare a rose. I am caught, helpless to even think about moving away from you."

Daryan pulled back, his eyes burning with the same desire that I felt warming the pit of my stomach. After a long look, he seemed satisfied and nodded "Come with me." We slipped away easily; for all that he was a prince and I an anomaly, none seemed to notice our passing.

As soon as we were away from the general crowds and in the garden that had been deemed Eden for the night, Daryan pressed me hard against one of the many, winged statues that dotted the pathway and pressed his mouth to mine. I succumbed to him without hesitation, letting the smoldering feeling in my stomach translate to my lips. Oh, how wonderful it was to be held in his arms, pulled flush against him, our bodies seeming to meld as one. For all that we were alone and had all the time in the world, it was a desperate passion that gripped us, and we both arched against each other as it drove through us. Daryan's hands were everywhere at once, no longer restricting himself to the decorous expanses of my bare back but roaming freely over the rest of me, from throat to stomach, to hips to throat again. He left small marks of pain and desire as he worked his way down my neck, his lips soft against the softer skin of my throat. I whimpered, rendered helpless and weak by his touch.

"Sweet Madonna," I gasped as he looked up at me from his knees. "I think I shall fall over."

"Then I shall catch you." And he pulled me down to his level, so that I was kneeling as well, my bare knees hot against the cool grass. "Sweet Kelryian, I shall pray no more to the Madonna and her child but to you and yours." He kissed me again, full on the mouth. There was no holding back; I responded fully before his words truly registered.

"But I have no child." My lips were sore and bruised, but it was the most delicious feeling I had ever known.

Daryan slid his hand beneath the edge of my skirt and I felt it caressing my knee ever so gently. "We shall have to make one." His fingertips traced a line up my thigh, leaving each place that his fingers touched inflamed with desire.

"Here? Now?" I shuddered with the temptation of doing something so taboo.

"Now," Daryan whispered against me, his lips moving against mine as he spoke, his breath mingling with mine. "Here." His fingertips grazed the tender skin that trembled on the inside of my leg, always moving higher, ever higher.

I was silent, my breath coming now in almost labored gasps. I felt his mouth once more on my sensitive throat, covering the spot where my pulse beat with his mouth. His mouth sank lower even as his hand moved higher and I verily burned with desire. Daryan knew it and understood the effect that he was having on me. He spoke sweet nothings into the tops of my breasts, while his hand traced loving words around my hips.

The smallest of noises escaped my lips at the same time a throat was cleared near us. My eyes flew open and I started violently, which alerted Daryan to the intruder's presence. He smoothed my skirt expertly around me and stood gracefully, extending a hand to help me as well before addressing the man who had come upon us.

"Thom, so good to see you!" Daryan grinned jovially. "What brings you here?"

My face, so recently aflame with desire now burned with embarrassment. "Ser Thomhas, indeed, a pleasant evening to you."

Thom bowed deeply to both of us in turn, catching and holding my gaze as he sank in an obeisance to me. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your private meeting, but you really should return."

"You came all the way out here just to tell us that we were missed?" Daryan scoffed caustically. "I can't ever get over you and your sense of propriety, Thomhas." He shook his head almost angrily. "Kelryian, follow me in a moment or two so as not to arouse suspicion. It's me they're undoubtedly looking for, not you. Do as you please." He strode away without a second glace, leaving me to listen to his footsteps until they were absorbed into the babble of the party.

After a few, tense seconds of silence, I turned to Thomhas. "Please, don't tell anyone."

"I don't have to." If I have ever seen infinite sadness writ on the face of man, it would have been on his face then. At that moment, though, I wanted none of his damning pity; I wanted only to be consoled.

A heavy sigh broke from my lips. "Don't tell Livingston."

This time, Thomhas didn't bother to waste the breath; Livingston knew as well. Such was the way of the courtly life, I supposed. It was how I had come to know Ceryn fa Gelder without every speaking to her. It was how I had learned of countless other happenings surrounding Daryan's coterie of courtiers. If I had once thought that it couldn't affect me, I knew now that it could and would, give the chance.

"Thomhas…" I placed my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat in time with the pulse pounding in my ears.

"Don't." He stopped me with a single word. "You have enough trouble as it is."

I sighed and turned away. "Forgive me. I am rather confused at present."

He laughed softly. "I'd say so." His hand rested gently on my shoulder, the heat seeping through his glove onto my bare shoulder. "I would suggest, Kelryian, that you return now and find a partner to dance with." He paused and then added, "Preferably a partner who is not of royal birth." With that unwanted advice, Thomhas left me to the darkness.

I could feel my insides shredding into thousands of pieces, rent by nerves and anxiety. Could I face them again? And Daryan, what of him? Would he look at me any differently now that we had been so intimate? I shivered before taking a single, first step. It was hard to convince myself of the wisdom of this step. I was completely unsure that my decision to return to the soiree was a good one. This night, I realized, could define me for the duration of my charade as Sera Kelryian dy Relandrant.

It was that thought that prevented me from continuing my progress. Was it really a charade? I _was _Kelryian, but at the same time, I was not. It was a conundrum, to be sure. I bit my lip, deep in thought. What was I to do about this new, disturbing idea? Had I truly sunk so low as to consider myself completely one of the lower classes, one who did not fit in with the gentry with whom she had been raised?

"Kelryian."

Thomhas stood before me. "What?"

"Come."

It was a simple command, one I could follow easily, without thought. I went.

"You have been missed."

I shook my head. "None should." The despair that gripped me in the wake of my internal struggle had me still in its grips.

He heaved a sigh that was full of impatience. "That doesn't matter. They have." He grasped my hand in his, looping my arm through his. "Shall we dance, when we return?"

I remained mute, lost in my thoughts.

"Kelryian, pay attention." We stopped and he faced me, tilting my chin up so that he could look into my eyes more easily. "You must act nonchalant and happy. Gay, witty, bright, whatever. Act like any other woman in her twenties who is only too happy to be at a summer ball dancing the night away."

"I'm only seventeen," I murmured numbly, my lips feeling sticky.

"_It doesn't matter_. I don't care how old you are. This is how you must act." It was his force and fervent, staccato tones that brought me out of my recent despondency. I met his gaze with my own at long last, a spark of interest flaring within. "That's better."

"I will try." I titled my head slightly further towards him, exposing myself more fully to him. I was drawn to him, reaching for the comfort of his stern authority. It seemed to me that he would protect me—from what I didn't know. Perhaps from myself, perhaps from the others. It didn't really matter.

"Kelryian…" His voice was soft, suddenly, more caring than the moment previous.

"Thomhas…" I murmured, feeling the vestiges of passion that Daryan had ignited stir within me. "Thank you."

His head lowered slightly, almost meeting mine, but I had to fill the rest of the distance. I lifted chin further, exposing my mouth completely to him, waiting for him to complete gesture. "Kelryian," He said firmly, my name sounding oddly staccato, "You are not a stupid girl, I know that much, but sometimes, you do incredibly stupid things."

I blushed fiercely and looked down, my cheeks burning. He was right; I was not acting rationally. It was merely the lingering desire from my encounter with Daryan. I told myself this, biting my lower lip with a vengeance. "Forgive me."

Thomhas' gloved fingertips beneath my chin lifted my head up. "No," He murmured. "Forgive me." And for the briefest of moments, our lips touched delicately, tenderly.

The sigh of his footsteps across the grass was the only noise of his passing. The breath that escaped my tingling lips fell heavily into oblivion as I, confused and suddenly lonely, made my way back to the lighted areas.

**Author's Note**: Well, wasn't _that_ a racy chapter? Kelryian really needs to get some scruples for herself…

I must apologize for the extreme wait on this chapter. My life rather got in the way. I was off, jet-setting around the continental U.S. and dying of jetlag and all that jazz. Then came the musical, during which I spent fifteen hours a day at rehearsals thinking up all the great ways I could write this chapter. And then finally I wrote it, squeezing it in write before my exams start! I'm relatively happy with it.

I'm not entirely sure about that last little bit with Thomhas, so I'd like your opinion on that, if you would be so kind! Should it stay or should it go? That's all I'm really worried about this time around, but let me know if you see anything that needs to be fixed.

Thanks in advance! I always appreciate feedback! )


	22. I So Hate Consequences

**Chapter 22:** I So Hate Consequences…

As the light of dawn flooded the sky, I began to regret each and every shot of liquid courage that had made the remainder of the previous night bearable. I realized then, as I had on other mornings when I had had too much to drink, that I was too susceptible to blinding headaches the next morning to drink as much as I did.

The day progressed painfully slowly, inching along with the tiniest of movements. It was wretchedly slow, and I wished with all the desire of my heart that the day, and ultimately the week, would end so that I could attend yet another of the aristocracy's summer masquerades. It was like an addiction, so wonderful and terrible all at once, with no middle ground. I hated the bitter stares and the superficial girls, but I understood that I was no better than they, though I had achieved something that they had not.

As the seventh day came and evening drew nigh, I felt myself growing more and more fidgety. Tanlin noticed this as well and threw several dark looks my way. Cansin was more oblivious my restiveness, but she did comment on the dark circles under my eyes. "You look like you haven't been sleeping, Catskin. Is there something wrong? Are you sick? Do you need a day off?" The rush of words was so unexpected that at first I was speechless.

When I finally regained my voice, I managed a quick, "No, I'm fine," before returning to my nervous habits. I drummed my fingers relentlessly on the table top, catching my fingernails on every little crack. A small voice in the back of my head noted that Ulga would not be pleased with my rather disheveled state, but I ignored it and continued pacing.

My impatience carried on until I arrived at Ulga's doorstep to collect the final dress from her. This one was as sparkling as the stars, beaded with as many glass beads as there were stars in the sky. I shimmered when I walked, a vision, as Chase termed me, in pure white. I could, in his words, be the virginal goddess of the moon from legends. I wasn't sure if his words were merely compliments or warnings.

Despite the potential cryptic comment, I settled the sheerest wrap I could find around my shoulders and stepped into Ulga's waiting carriage. Tonight, I would enter in style and, hopefully, add a final layer of authenticity to my name. I crossed my fingers nervously, feeling the fabric of my gloves draw tight and catch on my sweaty skin. Perhaps it would do me some good.

Stepping out of the carriage was both the most painful thing in the world and the most exhilarating thing that I had ever done. Chase handed me down with artless ease and I turned to wait for Ulga. She exited with matching grace, looking as regal as the Queen in her elegant gown.

With her came the verification of my identity. Sure as the sun would rise, there would still be some doubters, but for the most part, I would now be officially recognized as Sera Kelryian dy Relandrant.

As had happened previously, Daryan was at my side almost instantly, sweeping me away through the crowd. His strong hand grasping mine sent shivers down my spine, a delicious tingling that I couldn't get enough of. I was in love, and I was sure that Daryan felt the same way about me. His broad fingers pressing firmly into my back, drawing me nearer to him, felt like firebrands burning holes into my back that marked me as _his_. We spun through the night, delightfully enraptured with one another. Nothing could separate us.

Nothing.

Of course, one should never say nothing, for, eventually, something did separate us. Kissing my hand gently, Prince Daryan escorted me to a quiet corner. "Darling, let Thom keep you company for a moment. I have someone that you absolutely must meet."

"Of course, Daryan. I'll be waiting." My voice was sultry in the darkness, as rich and as full as the moon. He kissed me quickly on the mouth—and then he was gone.

Relief was sweet when Daryan once again threaded his way through the crowds and took my hand, ending my loneliness. "Dearest," he said, his royal lips moving perfectly. "I have someone that I think you should meet, if that is amenable to you."

"If you think it is worthwhile, then I will surely have to agree." My words, murmured, coy, were like silk flowing across my tongue.

"Wonderful!" Daryan set his arm gently around my shoulder, pressing me flush against him. "I do believe you've met them already, but you may not remember them."

I laughed with a little embarrassment. "There are rather a lot of people here who I've met but don't remember."

"I don't think you met them here…" Daryan's mysteriousness was wrenching my insides apart with nerves. "May I present Ser Aloysius and his wife, Sera Karise?"

I very nearly fainted.

"And, my dear Ser and Sera, may I present to you Sera Kelryian dy Relandrant?"

I think my mother very nearly fainted. My father, of course, was as stoic as usual. He hated me, I could tell.

"Kelryian!" My mother's low exclamation, though devoid of any extreme pitch or volume, caught the attention of the people around us. "Oh God, Kelryian." She touched my father's arm tentatively. "Is it really her?"

"I have no daughter."

How typical; I think he truly believed that he had no daughter. I wasn't a son after all. Perhaps I was a bit bitter.

"Aloysius, will you ever stop being such an ass?" Karise elegantly slid her arm out of his and picked her way to me. "Now, child, let me look at you. I haven't seen you in ages!"

"It's been a year, mother. More than a year." Summer was fading into fall, now. My seventeenth birthday had come and gone. There had been no dread, no threat of a wedding, this time. There had only been work on my birthday. I had celebrated silently, without telling Alary or Tanlin and Cansin.

I had told Thomhas, I realized suddenly. I shivered at the thought, the memories of just minutes previous lingering on my skin.

"You've grown so!" Karise dy Relandrant cooed, touching my hair, my bare shoulder. "What a woman you're turning out to be!" She turned to my visibly furious father. "What do you think of our daughter, Aloysius?"

"I told you what I think of her."

"Well I think she's such a lucky girl! She's had so much fun, haven't you, darling?" My mother was in rare form; the saccharine praises dripped from her mouth like honey. I braced myself for something terrible. "You know, I do believe that Gerand will let you continue to go to such parties as long as you are a _little_ more discreet." Her words fluttered across my ears and I blanched.

"Mother…"

"Oh, yes, of course he'll still marry you, no matter what you've done, and God knows, that must have been quite a lot. You've had a year with no chaperone! I can't even begin to imagine the places you've been frequenting, the diseases you've caught. At least you've kept your appearance decent." Karise could me remarkably cruel when she wanted to. It was really quite impressive.

"Pardon," I muttered to my mother, stepping back from her, towards Daryan. "Could I possibly go and refresh myself? I'm afraid this has all been too much."

"Certainly." A smile played around the edges of his lips, deepening them with no apparent cause. "Feel free to go wherever you wish." He crossed his arms. "I shan't keep you."

As he turned back to ostensibly talk with my parents, I managed to stumble away from them. I was stunned by his apparent rejection of me and the realization made it difficult to walk straight. I saw Ulga as I meandered through the crowd but as I called to her, she turned away, shaking her head in a silent warning. I was not to come near her. Tears burned spitefully in my eyes and I could feel the delicate cosmetics that had been painted on my face begin to pool within the salty droplets.

Somehow, I managed to stumble drunkenly to the dormitories of the palace staff, where Livingston's little apartment was. With only a brief struggle, I was into the flat and finally alone.

Well, I had been alone before this moment. Daryan had abandoned me easily, or so it seemed, just letting my parents have at me. He seemed fully prepared to merely let them take me away from him without a word of protest. I thought I could almost feel my heart breaking.

Suddenly, a wave of anger swept through me. Who was Daryan to just discard me like some used _thing_? He had no right to treat me in such a way! Furiously, I began to free myself from the confines of that damnable gown. _Gerand_, my apparently still betrothed, had given it to me. It was tainted, just like anything else associated with him. Mutter angrily to myself about the degenerate society I lived in and how men were nothing but worthless pieces of trash, I stripped the fine, silken fabric from myself until I was all but naked.

"Sweet Madonna," I spat quietly. "If I ever have to get trussed up like that again, it will be the death of me." Carefully, I drew a bath for myself, preparing to wash off the night's aches and pains, both mental and physical.

Slipping into the warm water of the bath was pure heaven. Knowing that I was alone granted me a liberty I would not have had otherwise, and I was free to lounge miserably in my bath, simmering over the events of the night. As I soaked, I thought of my options. I could be a docile daughter and do as my parents wished. I could marry Ser Gerand al Monteville and share his bed until he died of old age, which, if the fates were stacked against me, could take many more years than I could bear. There would also be the possibility of children, which would seriously hamper my own personal desires and wishes. I shuddered at the thought of being the mother to any of Gerand's brats. There were also the original al Monteville children to consider; all three of them were older than I was which would create quite an awkward situation when that particular aspect of motherhood came around.

My only other option seemed to be trying to win back Daryan's heart. I had thought he loved me until tonight and I felt that I still loved him with all my heart. He may have broken it, but I loved him yet and longed for his kisses, his attention. The way he looked at me set me on fire, burning me up from the inside out. When I was with Daryan, I was…alive.

I hauled myself out of the bath, satisfied with my choice. I would have to find Daryan, no matter what. There was no other avenue for me to explore. Quickly, I dried myself and made to borrow some of Livingston's clothing. I couldn't exactly parade around the city wearing a fancy ball gown; someone would be sure to either recognize me or stop me, neither of which boded well for me. My fingers flew as they slipped the buttons on the shirt into their place. It was a little large for me, but it would have to do. After commandeering a pair of pants as well, I was almost ready to go.

With my hand only a hair's breadth away from touching the door handle, it turned and I jumped back with a startled yelp. "Livingston?"

"Sera _Kelryian_?" A pair of eyes set deep in a finely boned face peered curiously at me. "You are the Sera, are you not?"

"No." I said shortly. "Where's Livingston?" The man in the doorway shrugged.

"Livingston…"

He was cut off before he could say anymore by my closest friend sauntering up. "Braden, no need to worry, I'm here." One slim, artisan's hand slid possessively around the strange man.

"Liv, we're not alone." Livingston's lips stopped scant inches from the man's blanched cheek.

"Catskin?" Livingston quickly turned an unhealthy red. "What are you doing here?"

"Leaving," I said shortly, furious with him. I had told him everything—everything!—about my romantic escapades and yet he had told me none of his. Now I knew why. "Have a good night." I glared at him, all of the resentment from the entire night filling me with bitterness. I brushed past the two men, leaving them to their own devices.

Stalking out into the night, I was wretchedly glad to be alone with my troubles. Without Livingston to hinder me with his petty concerns, I could go off to find Daryan fairly quickly, remind him that he really did love me, and get a slice of heaven in my life. Ignoring the jeers from the few drunken pedestrians that were on the road, I crossed the city in no time, finding that my feet had taken me to Alary's house.

Perhaps it was rash, but I took as many of my things as I could with me when I left, leaving a few coins behind to cover the next month's rent. I didn't plan on returning or ever seeing Alary and her family again, but I wanted to be cautious. Just in case. My optimism about love and all of its wonders was wearing thin.

I closed the door as softly as I could, gathering my bundle wrapped in cat's skin close to me. Maybe one day I could come back and tell them what a great service they'd done to the Queen of Tännon without knowing it, but I doubted I would ever want to acknowledge this part of my life ever again. It had become a sort of hell for me, and I was ready to leave. I slipped the dark blue cloak around my shoulders and dragged the hood up to cover the flaxen tangle that was my hair.

"Kelryian. Or Catskin. Whatever your name is, come with me."

I nearly dropped my bundle out of sheer fright. "Who are you?" I cowered against the wall, all over my furious bravado dissipating instantly.

He didn't answer, but merely stepped into the light where I could see him clearly. "Do you like that cloak?" Thomhas asked, his voice oddly soft.

"It has served me well," I replied, my tone wary. "Why?"

"I hoped it would."

**A Note from the Author:** Terribly sorry about this taking so long—life called and I had to answer! It's been a while, hasn't it? I really appreciate your patience with me; sometimes, it's just difficult to find time. There were also several weeks when I didn't have a keyboard because my cats ripped it out of my laptop, but luckily that fixed itself rather quickly.

I've also been having some plot issues. You should see the walls of my room—absolutely covered with post-it notes of possible plot lines! If you notice anything that you think I should address, let me know, because I've probably missed something! Also, if you find some discrepancies that I mussed up, let me know that as well so I can fix them. As always, every bit of feedback I get is appreciated! If you just wanted to stop in and say, I'd like that too:)

I wish you all an excellent, belated July Fourth! I hope you all saw or set off some awesome fireworks!


	23. Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride

**Chapter 23**: Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride

Standing there in the small cathedral, my hair dripping from the sudden summer storm, I nearly cried. Daryan's lips were pressed firmly to mine, the epitome of devotion. I could feel the great vastness of the cathedral pulsing around us as surely as I could feel the soaking hem of my gown dragging heavily across my bare feet. This was perfection.

"I love you," I whispered against his mouth as he broke the too-chaste, too-short kiss.

"And I you," Daryan squeezed my hand.

A smile warmed my lips, bringing light to the otherwise dark hall. It was midnight now, exactly; I could hear the bells of the church tolling the quiet hour. It was midnight, and I was in the arms of the man of my dreams. "What a wonderful night."

"Oh, my darling, it is." He pressed his mouth soundly to mine once more. "I am forever glad that Thomhas brought you back to me."

"How could I not?" I felt heat of his cheek pressed against mine and smiled softly, remembering the flush that had burned over Thomhas' face when he had presented me to Daryan. "I have no one but you."

"Truer words…" Daryan muttered into my hair, his words obscured and muffled.

I ignored his reply, basking in the happy glow that cushioned my every step. I had found Daryan, as I had promised myself I would, and now I would never be alone.

We turned then, Daryan and I, hand in hand, and walked down the aisle of the cathedral. Our steps echoed merrily about the cavernous room; it was empty save for the two of us and Ser Thomhas, who stood unobtrusively in the corner, waiting for his prince's order. The lintel still dripped with the vestiges of the storm that had soaked us on our way in, sending a shocking droplet down my spine. Daryan stepped into the carriage first, leaving his friend and fellow to assist me. When I had settled, my wet clothing soaking the seat around me, Thomhas closed the door and latched it firmly. I assumed that he would be directing the driver as to our destination; Daryan had mentioned something about taking me somewhere special.

"My darling," my prince murmured in my ear, "What have we left to do now but celebrate? We are joined at last, alone together." He settled in next to me, his arm casually draped about my shoulders. As the carriage jerked forward into the wee hours of the morning, Daryan leaned down to kiss me again, our lips meeting and fusing with a passion that could not be imitated ever again. I savored the taste of him on my mouth as he moved on, tasting for himself the sensitive expanse of my own skin.

Oh, how I adored the taste of him!

The light that streamed in the windows warmed my still-tender flesh; most of my muscles were now sore beyond belief, but wonderfully so. The warm sun brushing against my bare shoulder felt much like Daryan's touch, but illuminated with the morning.

I stretched languorously, feeling the good cotton of the sheets give way with my movements. Oh, how absolutely delightful it was to sleep in a real bed with real bedding! I exalted in the pleasure.

I felt the mattress shift as the man beside me rolled to accommodate my movements. "Good morning, darling." The rough voice of a freshly woken prince was like the most dulcet of tones to me.

"Ah, morning! What a splendid hour is she!" I was feeling inexplicably poetic.

Daryan's arm suddenly came around my waist and pulled me towards him. "We should not waste these hours, precious as they are," he murmured, his lips brushing tantalizingly along my earlobe. "Do you agree, my princess?"

A delicate sigh of pleasure escaped my throat. "Oh, indeed I do." I reveled in my newfound position. It was a delight indeed to be able to wake next to the man I loved and while away the morning hours with sweet nothings and heady intimations.

The morning disappeared between our sheets, lost in the folds and tangles.

When we finally emerged from the bedroom after being sequestered there for the better part of the day, we were greeted by a bowl of fresh fruit.

Curled in a richly upholstered armchair, my brow furrowed in deep concentration, I tried to formulate the exact wording that I wished to use to compose a dreadful sonnet in honor of my love. "The fairest of fair? Prince among princes? Beloved?" I pondered idly, my voice sounding oddly soft in the afternoon sun. I slipped a strawberry between my lips, exulting at the way the juicy fruit yielded to my teeth. "Do those seem too clichéd?"

Daryan mused as well, lounging indolently on the floor. "I'm not sure, really. I never was much of a poet. I'd have to ask someone."

I harrumphed good-naturedly, mildly dissatisfied with his answer. I plucked another strawberry from the bowl at my right hand. "I have never been much of a poet either but you—you inspire me."

"Darling, you are a natural." He lied so smoothly that I almost believed him. Even I knew that my poetic skills were very, very lacking. Daryan snorted almost derisively. "I do believe that just about everyone is something of a poet. It's just the skill with which the poems are executed that varies from person to person."

My fingertips, sticky with fruit, dragged lightly through his hair. I sighed gustily as I did so. "I certainly haven't the slightest idea of what to do next."

"Oh, but I do." Daryan's lips morphed into one of the devious smiles that I had come to recognize quickly. He pressed a strawberry between my lips, but I turned my head, leaving a sugary trail along my own cheek. Rebuffed, Daryan ate the fruit himself. "Fine, then, darling. I suppose you shan't find out."

"I'm tired," I protested. "I didn't exactly sleep much last night." Trying to rub off the stickiness with the back of my hand only served to smeared it further.

"Well, then." Daryan sighed. "Why don't you just lie there and I'll amuse the two of us." He pulled himself up towards me, trapping me in the chair. "Let me help you with that," he breathed, kissing his way across the streak on my cheek.

"Daryan…" I tried, perhaps only halfheartedly, to push him away again, but he was simply irresistible. I supposed that all new lovers were this insatiable and decided not to let his considerable appetite bother me overly much. I promised myself that, after a quick tryst, I would sleep.

I found, quickly enough, that it was only too easy to break the promises that I had made to myself. Daryan was infinitely distracting, either keeping me occupied with idle chatter or other, more active pursuits.

Finally, as night brought down its curtain on the world, I slept.

As I rose once more into the waking life, aroused by the dawn and Daryan's movements, I mulled over what I was going to do now. After Thomhas had taken me to that cathedral and handed me off to Daryan, I hadn't been thinking much. There was always something to distract me.

A hand brushed my shoulder, but I pretended to yet sleep. I needed to think, I decided, and figure out what was going to happen next. I wondered hopefully if Daryan would ask me to marry him soon; I knew his mother would not approve, and that anyone interested in using him as a political pawn would be sorely disappointed. My own parents would likely be mildly put out as well; all of their grand schemes for my life would have been trashed with a few, choice actions and there would be nothing they could do about it.

I heard the door shut as Daryan left the room.

It was at that moment that I realized I didn't actually know where I was. I had surmised that we were not in the palace in Tännon-city, but that was all. I sat up and frowned at the walls around me, deciding that deducing where I was would be the first order of business.

Pulling on one of the shirts I found strewn across the floor, I began to prowl around the room, searching for any clues as to the identity of the residence. I searched for what most have been half the day, completely alone, meandering from room to room in complete solitude. I never saw or heard the slightest hair or breath of a servant; discretion, obviously, was key in this palace of worldly pleasures. In every room I happened across, the decorative taste was superb, unsurpassed by any I had ever seen before.

Twilight found me in the midst of a sprawling garden, rife with night-blooming flowers. I plucked one and tucked it into my hair, pretending that Daryan's hands were the ones fastening the blossom in my golden tresses. The sun sunk lower in the sky, leaving the clouds awash with muted colors. I sighed heavily, wishing Daryan was here to enjoy this with me.

Even as darkness took hold of the night, transforming the gardens from a beautiful topiary into something a little more sinister, I stayed where I was, refusing to move. Candles flickered to life, one by one, moving closer and closer to me with each new light. I shivered in the darkness; though it was summer, a cool breeze danced across my shoulders.

"Milady." A manservant with a soft voice stood in front of me, holding a lighted taper. "Milady should come inside." He stood before me, but did not proffer a hand to help me up.

"Where is my prince?"

The manservant said nothing but, "Milady should come inside." His face was nearly expressionless; I caught a glimpse of something that I couldn't quite place before it disappeared from his face entirely. "Really, miss, you could get chilled."

Again I sighed. "If I must."

The manservant agreed with me. "You must."

So I did. It was really quite simple when I thought about. If I did as I was told, things would go smoothly, with nary a bump to bother me. If I just nodded and smiled, life would be fine and peachy keen. There would be sugared, meaningless pleasantries and I could while away my days by Daryan's side, blissfully happy and without a care in the world.

Or, I realized at that moment, it wouldn't be Daryan, necessarily. It didn't have to be. I could substitute any other name—Gerand, perhaps—and my formulaic future would still be the same. Just with a few letters rearranged.

The manservant stopped when I did and gazed at me, his blank gaze holding the smallest inkling of questioning. "I take it that Prince Daryan is no longer in residence?"

The man shook his head slowly; a small frown dragged the corners of his mouth down like a drowning man pulls his rescuer. "Milady, the Prince said he would return to collect you at his earliest convenience."

"Ah." I couldn't force myself to smile.

"There is a letter waiting for you, milady." The manservant ushered me inside, escorting me to the door to the suite I had recently shared with Daryan. "Read it in good health."

I frowned at the traditional phrase, but said nothing, choosing instead to shut the door neatly in his face. The letter was immediately noticeable; it lay on the floor at my feet wrapped with golden ribbon. "Oh, Daryan," I murmured, shaking my head. A simple letter wouldn't do well to mend my half-broken heart.

_Dearest Kelryian_, the letter read,

_I have been called away. Please, take this as a token of my undying admiration for you. I will return to you, when my schedule allows._

_D._

I sighed. This was no fine love letter, merely a hastily jotted note that promised nothing. I upended the envelope without ceremony and gasped at the ring that fell out.

It was a delicate piece of work, wrought in silver with a ruby nestling in the setting. What a pretty thing! I slipped it on my ring finger at once, only to find that it wouldn't fit. Displeasure lined my face immediately, but I pressed it onto my smallest finger instead, and there it stayed, secure and lovely.

Then, in one of those crystalline moments borne of frustration, several things were decided in quick succession.

First was that I would be leaving presently.

Secondly, I would take nothing but the cloak made of catskin and the ring the Daryan had given me.

Thirdly, I needed to find Ulga.

The first two were simple; no one stopped me as I rode out on a docile palfrey, claiming to want an evening ride. No questions were asked and I volunteered nothing, the dull thud of the horse's hooves the only sound to break the still air.

Although I did not know precisely where I was, I had no trouble finding Tännon-city itself. It shone even in the darkness with the light of a thousand souls living and moving within. The lamps of the city dwellers burned through the night, a beacon to guide me home.

**Author's Note**: Once again, please pardon my apparently inability to update with any sort of regularity. I'd hit that point in the story where I just didn't know what to do. It was really quite frustrating. My room is decorated with all these post-it note plot lines that could all work. I just have to find the one that I like. I was also having some trouble because I'd drifted away from the fairy tale quite a bit, but that's being resolved now. Another factor is that I just haven't had much time. School is starting up again in less than two weeks for me and I had a whole pile of summer assignments to read. I'm still not done (the thing I have to read for my music tutorial is flat out boring) and I've been packing up all my stuff to get ready to move 2,000 miles away. And work. I dislike work, although work is where I wrote this. I guess that's one good thing about that.

Ah, change. Life would be so boring without it.

Anyway, enough about me, I hope you enjoyed this chapter…the next one should be more satisfying, I think, if this one wasn't. Yep!

I hope everyone's having a wonderful summer!


	24. A Terrible Beauty is Born

**Chapter Twenty-Four**: A Terrible Beauty is Born

Ulga welcomed me into her house with very little ceremony and quite a bit of secrecy. "Your highborn parents are seriously considering disowning you and waging war on anyone who associates with you." She fussed at me as she had when I was younger. "My goodness, darling, you have no idea what you've done. Absolute scandal!" She played lady's maid with efficient good humor, stripping my of my traveling clothes and catskin and giving me a plain, clean shift to wear.

I was quickly learning the value of cleanliness.

"Ulga, I need guidance, not scolding, please!" I brushed her away from my hair, content to let the golden tangles lie. "Please."

"Have you been washing behind your ears?" My former governess was not easily put off. Finally, when she was assured that all forms of my physical being were in order, she got to the heart of the matter. "Kelryian, tell me now or never speak to me again, what have you done?"

I took a deep breath, debating quickly between telling her everything or only a partial tale. "Well…" I dragged the word out as long as possible before I quailed in front of her glare. Then I told her the whole story, even the parts she knew already. I started with that first, fateful ball and didn't stop until it was dawn and I reached my arrival in Tännon-city that very midnight. I covered everything from Thomhas discovering me in the gardens of the palace after Daryan had run back to the soiree to the recent evening where Thomhas had discovered me and led me to Daryan. My story ranged from discovering Livingston to the languorous few hours I had spent with Daryan in the secluded house I had only recently departed. Lastly, I told her about the ring.

Ulga listened carefully to all of it, never interrupting. Finally, after some consideration, she spoke. "Kelryian," she said to me, and it was like the toll of a great, heavy bell, "You shall have to leave."

I was thoroughly dismayed. "But why can't I stay here? I've got nowhere else to go! I can't go back to Alary. Where else could I stay in the city?"

"No, Kelryian." She was all nurturing kindness, all maternal compassion. "You must leave the city as well."

"But _why_?" Ah, what sorrow I knew then! I saw she was right, and I could do nothing about it. I would not survive very long living off of the charity of others and I had no real skills to market. I had been bred to be a bargaining chip and nothing more and this realization nearly broke my spirit.

Ulga could see that I knew why; she didn't have to spell it out. My governess turned accomplice and friend nodded knowingly. "You must leave entirely," she reiterated. "There is no life for you here."

"How?" Barely controlling the tears that stung my eyes, I tried to remain calm.

Her hand found mine and she shook her head. "We will find a way, sweet child." Her much-lined face was drawn with sadness. "But you are no child anymore, are you?" The other hand, roughened by age despite the attempts of various lotions to retain the silky qualities of youth, stroked my cheek softy, fingertips tracing my cheekbones and nestling the hollow beneath. "Kelry, what have you done?"

I began to wonder that myself, in a half-hearted way. I was too busy restraining the encroaching tears to ponder too hard, but I wondered nonetheless. What would have happened if none of this had happened? "Ulga," I murmured, my voice almost inaudible. "I have done nothing worthy of mentioning." It was true, and the sobs racked my frail body as I said so.

The last year had been hard on me and so, when taking me into those soft, fleshy arms that felt for all the world like warmed pillows, she found not the soft, delicate little girl that she had raised to adulthood. No, Ulga found instead a hardened shell of a young woman, not grown, but not a child either. I had lost all of the childish weight that had once rounded out my girlish figure, making it appear more womanly that it truly was. Her thick fingers pressed into my spine, counting the vertebrae. The arms that wrapped around my governess in return, seeking solace, had been toughened by work.

I was no longer an aristo; I had been changed irrevocably. Even if I were to take up the mantle of the gentry once more and laze around doing nothing worthwhile or taxing, my body would still remember the work it had been used for. It would still remember the strain of burning and overworked muscles. I would know that I was different, and that would be enough. I shuddered in Ulga's arms and she held me tighter, but for a moment only.

"Kelryian." My name was softly spoken, but it resounded like a whisper in a silent church. "How did this all begin?"

It was a valid question. I sat back and thought. Had it begun with my first glimpse of Daryan? Or Gerand's marriage proposal? Perhaps it had begun when I asked for the first dress, or the second. It could have begun with the first step I took outside of my own, familiar world of aristocrats and bartered daughters. It could have been anything—the first day in the kitchens, my rivalry with Lucia or my friendship with Livingston.

And then I remembered. It had begun with Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo at my betrothal ceremony. He had kissed me once, his gloved hands cupping my face, but that was enough. He had shown me that it was possible to live as I was instead of as how my father and mother wanted me to live.

It was his doing that had undone me.

A smile of nostalgic pleasure almost reached my lips, but I was reminded of my present sorrow too quickly for it to reach fruition. "Oh, Ulga!" I sobbed freely. "What am I to do?"

She transformed instantly into a bossy caretaker once more. "We shall have to put you to bed, first off, despite the fact that the sun has risen. I expect you shall sleep through the day, darling." She motioned gently and I heard the steps of someone coming up beside me.

"Milady, please come with me." Chase lifted me gently from Ulga's arms, and I was aware of how exhausted I was. He carried me from my governess's arms to the embrace of a bed and quilt. Ulga, her soft hands all around me, tucked me in even as she hummed lullabies that I hadn't heard in years. Sleep took me quickly, eschewing dreams for a sleep that was all encompassing and entirely undisturbed.

My ascent into the waking world was blissfully slow. My eyes fluttered open several times, but the blankets were too welcoming, the mattress too loving for me to even consider rejoining the waking world. Finally, I stretched each of my limbs, allowing each one plenty of time to adjust to being awake.

The first thing that caught my attention was that I was alone. The house was not silent, but I was definitely removed from the noise that surrounded me. I had an entire bed to myself and it was full of diaphanous material that tenderly cradled me.

I shivered as I touched the tiles of the cold floor; when I looked down at my feet, I saw that I had missed the floor rug but inches. Shifting a few steps over, I curled my toes into the luxurious mat.

By the time I had completed a semblance of my morning routine, it was nearly afternoon. The church bells tolled their inexorable march through the hours, marking time patiently. Chase greeted me with his usually restrained warmth as I descended the stairs. He politely escorted me into the salon, where I eagerly consumed the food that was brought especially for me. It was all healthy, nutritious stuff; the fluffy, elegant cakes and sugary pastries that I had been eating of late were nowhere to be found.

As I finished and casually thanked the serving maid without thinking, Ulga walked in. "Sera Kelryian!"

The jaded serving girl flounced out as I froze, my mouth half full of bread and cheese. I tried to say something, but the bread rather got in the way.

"First of all, we don't eat like half-starved wretched and secondly, we don't address the staff! They are effectively invisible, remember?" Ulga was cross with me, I could tell, but I was too satisfied with my much-needed meal to take too much offense.

"But Ulga," I replied once I had managed to swallow the offending mouthful, "I think it is only right to thank those who help us. I remember that a kind word from anyone made me quite a great deal happier when I was in the kitchens. But," I hastily continued my speech as her expression clouded over. "I shan't do it again, if you are against it."

"Good." In so many ways, she was still the Ulga I loved. The façade she had adopted as a lady of the court was still transparent enough to let the overbearing matron shine through. Though I had despised her at times for reprimanding me, I had missed her guidance and, most of all, the hugs. I must have looked quite forlorn at this thought for Ulga instantly smiled. "Darling, don't worry. You'll be fine."

My expression slid back into the vacant, vapid mask that I usually used when I was uncomfortable. "Of course. I'm in your hands now!" Oh, how easily the perfectly phrased words slipped off my tongue! Flattering, but without being noticeably insincere, those words were the words of the gentry.

"I have several people to see today, so you'll have to find some way to entertain yourself, I suppose." Ulga shrugged. "The house is yours to explore."

Instantly, childishly, this made me pine for the outdoors more than ever. I did not, however, tell Ulga this. Instead, I merely smiled and nodded. "Of course. Have you a library?"

"Chase, show her, I really must be off." My governess swooped in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "Behave!" With that, Ulga was gone and Chase and I were left to our own devices.

"Library's not much, but it's this way." Chase showed me to the door of the room that led to what I hoped would be hours of distraction. "The library," He announced without much fanfare.

The selection was pitiful; bindings frayed with age dolefully stared back at me, pathetic and miserable all at once. I hope some of them had illustrations, at least. I thanked Chase and then selected a book at random, settling in for the rest of the day.

My days continued in this matter for the better part of a week until finally, I could stand it no longer. Compounding this was the fact that I had run out of book entirely, never mind if they had illustrations or not. I was interminably bored and feeling quite cramped in the townhouse that Ulga had made her own. When I told her this, she merely shrugged and told me that there was nothing she could do about it. It was hard enough for her to arrange to get me out of the country without having to entertain me as well.

That was when I decided it was time to go to the church and ask for infinite patience, for it seemed that I would never leave. Ulga, finding this an acceptable activity, lent me several hats with voluminous veils to hide my face.

So, as summer conspired to slip away and let fall take her place, I lowered myself into a pew at the church that Ulga and I had attended before. The same man was in the pulpit, railing away about all the iniquities of the world. He could spit out fire and brimstone as easily as he could calm the fears of the quivering old ladies in the front row who were worried that their granddaughters would be harlots and worse. I suffered his righteous wrath because, despite his choice of subject matter, he really was a gifted orator. He enthralled me.

Finally, after two weeks had passed, Ulga arrived with a solution. "I have found him!"

"Who?" I was all adolescent insolence. "My savior, come to rescue my immortal soul?"

Ulga frowned at me as I skirted blasphemy with my words. "Watch yourself. No, I've found someone who will get you out of Tännon and settle you into a new life."

When she paused, I urged her to continue. "Well you can't just stop there, now, can you? Tell me what it is! Is it someone I know?"

She nodded and hummed to herself in acknowledgment of my questions. "He is going to take you out of Tännon in a week's time, so we must prepare you. It's rather good that you've started going to church again; he'll meet you there and you'll go with him after the service. All of your possessions that you with to take with you will have already been packed onto his coach, so you needn't worry about them." The matronly figure expanded outwards with a sigh. "He seemed quite taken with your welfare, you know."

I snorted with giggles. "Everyone but the one I actually cared for seems taken with my welfare."

Again, Ulga chastened me. "You mustn't snort, darling. It's not proper." A thin smile graced her lips. "You've met him before, as well."

Curiosity fairly burned my innards; I was dying to know who it was. "Ulga, it isn't proper to _tease_ me so!"

"Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo will be your guardian from next Saturday hence." She smiled. "He's one of the few true gentlemen left at this godforsaken court. He'll care for you well."

I almost laughed at the sheer irony of it. Of _course _it would be Thomhas dy Cattalo; who else had always been there to rescue me from my own blundering attempts at seducing Daryan? "I suppose that shall work."

"Of course it will, don't be dense, child!" Ulga, always matter-of-fact when it came to planning something, was obviously completely confident that this scheme would work. "He's discreet and well-connected. If anyone can get you out with none the wiser, it's him."

"I was not complaining." Our gazes met and I knew in an instant that I was thoroughly loved and forgiven for all the trouble I was causing. "Now, where am I going and what will I need to pack?"

"Ser dy Cattalo will take you east, to Anselme. When you get there, it will be winter. Pack accordingly. If you need anything, let Chase know and he can get it for you at once, but be reasonable." Ulga clasped my hands tightly in hers. "We shall get you away from here yet."

I believed every word she said.

**Author's Note:** I honestly did not think this would happen, but the planets have aligned and we have a new chapter! This is certainly exciting! I hope you enjoyed it. As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated. I will do my best to respond to reviews, but if I don't, please forgive me!

Thanks for your patience and for your feedback! I appreciate both things.

Also, good luck, everyone, with fall and whatever that may bring you, whether it be school or work or just watching the leaves change color.

As a quick side note: This chapter title is a line from W.B. Yeats' poem "Easter 1916". It's a great poem and I highly recommend it. Three cheers for history _and_ poetry…


	25. Changed, Changed Utterly

**Chapter Twenty-Five**: Changed, Changed Utterly

Each day was agonizing. The hours dragged their feet and the clock bells seemed reluctant to ring. I paced, anxious to the point of tears. I attended the religious services more rigorously than ever and within two days, I was sitting in the front row being coddled by the grandmothers and exhorted personally by the presbyter.

Finally, on that last morning when the leaves were just touched by gold and the mornings carried the vestiges of summer on the humid breeze, my bags were packed and I passed through the great doors of the church for the last time. Instantly, the old biddies welcomed me into their fold, herding me towards the front. I was on the receiving end of many sharp elbows and brutal pinches because I simply could not sit still. The nervous anticipation coursing through my bloodstream acted faster than any alcohol and had a greater affect that anything I had ever known. I twitched, I shifted, I kicked my feet. All of these and more were rewarded with pain and injunctions to sit still and _listen_.

At long last, with a final intoned prayer to the Madonna and Her Holy Child to watch over us, the service was done and I was free to go. I stood immediately, much distaste of the grandmothers, and sought out Thomhas.

He caught my eye after a short period of frantic searching. Quietly, he escorted me out the door, his gloved hand pressed firmly into the small of my back. "Good afternoon, Sera dy Relandrant."

"Good afternoon, Ser dy Cattalo." We walked together for several steps, our footsteps marking perfect time. With effortless ease, he helped me into his carriage. I caught one last glimpse of Tännon-city before it was shut away completely. "Good-bye, farewell," I whispered to the city of my childhood.

Our arrival in Anselme was marked with so little fanfare that the great city-state seemed not to notice us at all. Thom seemed to think that was better, but I had wanted to see some display of affection or welcome, at the very least. Thom was still a high ranking member of the gentry though, he confided in me, no longer a close confidante of Prince Daryan's. It appeared that they had had a tiff over Thomhas' decision to venture to Anselme at such short notice.

"We'll be staying with the Comte d'Ardenne while in the city." My traveling companion rubbed his neck irritably. "It will certainly be a pleasure to take full advantage of his beds."

I sighed in sympathetic agreement. Traveling had not been pleasant; instead of stopping for nightly rests, we had pressed on. A halt had been called only to change weary horses or for brief meals. Sleeping in the jostling, jerking coach had not been ideal, to say the least. "I, for one, will be looking forward to being in the sunlight again!"

Anselme, renowned for her blue skies, had shown us nothing of her brilliant face while we were traveling. Even if the sun did shine, we didn't see it, cooped up as we were. I longed to simply drink in the cool, clean air of my new home, bathing in sunlight and good cheer. Thom and I had decided that, in this city of musicians and merchants, we would travel lightly, carrying only that which was absolutely necessary. We didn't bother to concoct a cock and bull story of our flight—for that was what it truly was, I realized—instead, we would simply say that we were traveling and answer no questions.

The Comte d'Ardenne greeted us with open arms, showering kisses upon us both. "Thomhas!" The old man cried, his jowls jiggling merrily beneath a heavy beard. "How devilishly delightful to see you again, my friend!" The Comte made a show of looking at me. "And _mein__ Gott!_ Who is this lovely lady that you've got dangling on your arm?"

Thomhas, suddenly smiling and radiating exuberance, shoved me forward into the embrace of Comte d'Ardenne. "This is Sera Kelryian dy Cattalo, Mathieu." I managed to give him one, confused look at this sudden deviation from our plan before I was enveloped in beribboned, fleshy arms.

"You are the very quintessence of beauty, my dear!" Mathieu d'Ardenne, enthusiastic and loving, accepted my blushing thanks without pause and made no guesses as to my relationship to Thomhas.

"We've traveled far, Mathieu. Tännon-city saw us off several mornings ago and we haven't stopped since. Have you a bite to eat?" Thomhas was masterful at steering our conversation. He continued to do so all afternoon as we ate our way through delicate, airy pastries and succulent fruits. We talked of nothing, revealed nothing, and ate everything. By the time evening darkened the skies, I was happily sated and ready to sleep forever.

"My dear, you look famished!" Mathieu offered another pastry. "Here, eat!" My eyes must have been as wide as my stomach felt, for the Comte laughed merrily and patted his own stomach. "I'm sorry, Sera, but I am used to my own eating habits. Forgive me."

"All is forgiven," I murmured, satisfied exhaustion making my eyes droop once again. "And I am happy."

"Kelryian," Thomhas murmured my name very softly sometime later. "Kelryian, would you like to go to bed?"

"Mm, yes, I should think so…" I knew vaguely that, for the most part, I was asleep, but it didn't seem too important. I was tired, and so it was only right that I should sleep.

Somewhere in the swirl of sleep-hazed awareness, I heard our host chuckle. "She's very sweet, but so young!"

"Aye, indeed she is." Strong hands slipped under my back and behind my knees, hoisting me into the air. "She's just tired now."

"Let her sleep all day, Thom. She deserves it, I'm sure. An hour in that conveyance merits at least a day's rest." Mathieu's voice slowly slipped away from me, and then, I was truly asleep.

Waking up in a strange bed was unnerving at first, but I soon decided that any bed was better than that horrid carriage. Snuggling into the sheets for one last, quick grab at sleep, I readied myself to face the day.

That day turned out to be a very easy day indeed; Thomhas, once more stoic, and Mathieu escorted me around Anselme. What a city she was! Brightly colored swathes of fabric were everywhere, drenching the city in gaiety. I couldn't resist the grin that leapt instantly to my lips at the sight of it. Mathieu beside me was smiling at my reaction, delighting in my joy. Thom, his arm linked through mine decorously, pointed out myriad novelties for me to feast my eyes upon.

At one point, Mathieu slipped off for a moment, reappearing a moment later, just as I noticed he had disappeared, with a carnation to tuck neatly into my hair. With grandfatherly concern, he patted it into place with shaking hands. "There, darling, but don't worry."

"What? Why should I worry when I've got two fine gentlemen escorting me throughout this fine city?" Oh, how happy I was in Anselme!

With a face fit for a funeral, Mathieu answered, "Why, don't worry that the flower should ever outshine your own beauty!"

"Ach! The nerve of you!" I swatted at him, but missed, all the while accusing him of being a flatterer. Thom, laughing at Mathieu's misfortune, caught me back again, ending my tirade. "Oh, Ser dy Cattalo, you mustn't ruin my fun."

But Mathieu was wheezing slightly; though spry, he was still much too old to be cavorting about like I was wont to do. My fun, for the moment, was over.

At the end of the day, I had nothing to show for our journey throughout the great, musical city of Anselme except for the flower and a wealth of memories. We had been accosted by roving musicians singing lovers ballads and epic songs of heroes and dragons. I had loved every minute of it and Mathieu had insisted that Thomhas should take me out tomorrow, though he himself couldn't go. Thom had agreed and so, the next morning, our exploration of the city commenced once more.

"Oh, Thom, look!" I dragged him with me, practically falling over my own feet. A girl sat on the sidewalk, painting pots arrayed around her. As soon as I looked down at the illustration, it appeared as a great, endless tunnel through which were flying an assortment of fairy creatures. Dragons, unicorns, sprites, nymphs…! Who could ask for anything more?

"I call's it 'Imagination', miss." The girl stared up at me, her sloppy grin free of sadness. "Like it?"

"Yes, of course I do!" I knelt beside her, Thomhas remaining aloof. "If only I could paint like you can!" I reached out a hand to touch it, but I was instantly slapped away.

"Only lookin', if you please."

"Yes, sorry, of course." I bit my lip, embarrassed.

Thomhas took my arm once more and tossed a coin to the artist. "Come, Kelryian. Let's keep walking."

Lunch in a small café was accompanied by a lute player with a sweet tenor voice. My good humor was quickly restored by the lightly plucked strings and the lilting melody.

"Thomhas, I have a question." I had been thinking for two days now about how to ask about my spontaneous change of name.

"You always do."

"Why did you call me Kelryian dy Cattalo?" I frowned. "I thought we were going to keep it simple."

"We are, Kelryian. It's simpler that we have the same surname. People would question an unaccompanied woman traveling in the company of a man who is neither brother nor husband. They shan't question us." He sighed. "I should have thought of it sooner, but it didn't occur to me until that very moment."

I pondered this along with a bite of strawberry tart. "I suppose that makes sense." I thought for a few seconds more. "Which are you, though?"

"It doesn't matter." Thomhas brushed my inquiry aside easily. "What matters is that your honor in the minds of those we meet is not being impugned and that they do not hear the name 'Relandrant'."

"What should that matter? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." I shrugged simply. "I don't understand."

"They're looking for you." He was so serious.

"Who?"

"Your parents are, and Ser al Monteville."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear, but I shoved that aside. "I thought my parents had disowned me. I thought that Gerand wouldn't want me. Hasn't news of my escapades reached them yet?" I was a bit bitter about that last bit.

"You are a valuable commodity, do you realize that? You are worth a rather large sum of money. Valuable things should be guarded carefully, not allowed to run amok all over the countryside." Before I could react, he caught my face in his hands and forced me to look at him. "Gerand al Monteville wants you because you will add to his wealth and because you are a beautiful young girl that he can claim as his. Your parents want you back because without you, they will lose most of their negotiations with al Monteville—bad faith would be the reason for that."

"Well don't I feel loved," I muttered, my face inflamed with both the heat of his hands and my own blush. "Here, for all these years, I thought they didn't want me."

Thom sat back a little, dropping his hands to my shoulders. "Actually, they still don't want you. At least, not your parents. They're merely trying to get rid of you to get something better."

"Good sir!" One of the wandering minstrels interposed himself at once. "How dare you say such a thing to such a graceful young lady! Whoever could want more than this?" I cringed as the minstrel flung Thomhas' hands off of me. "Fine golden hair, comely figure and face, sweet tempered and tongued, with out a doubt. I'm sure she could fetch far more than any other treasure in this room, were she to be sold!" The man ran a bow across the taut strings and those immediately around us quieted so as to better here the music.

"Ladies, gentlemen! You are now to witness the saving of a young damsel from distress!" Notes wailed from his instrument, plaintive cries that nearly broke my heart and my ears all at once. "There once was a girl, whose name was Annalyd. She was a pretty sight to and so too thought the wind…" The minstrel paused hopefully, obviously begging for some kind of recognition. When none was given, he sighed. "Not that one, then. It's no good anyhow. Perhaps another?"

"That won't be necessary." Thom smiled as politely as he could. "We should like to dine in peace, I think."

"Oh we should, should we?" The man made a face as he imitated my companion. "How 'bout it, gents? Ladies? Another one for the lord and his lady?" He threw his arms wide to his audience, which was always ready for the public humiliation of some poor soul or another. "What shall I play for them?" It seemed as if then entire café roared at once, bubbling with different suggestions. Finally, the minstrel raised his hand and the hubbub ceased. "Thank you kindly for your suggestions, my friends. Now, for the lady and her lord, I shall play a song." With great flourish, the bow whined across the strings. "In a city not so far away, there is a man searches night and day…" There was a pause for a brief instrumental interlude, and then he continued. "He looks for the girl he was to wed and looks to take her to his bed. But he's too late, oh yes he is, he's too late, for she spurns his love with hate. She's led him on, oh along, along, but she has done him grievous wrong."

I listened with interest; I was always up for something dramatic. This sounded like something that would suit me perfectly. Thom was restless, but I bid him sit still, for now I was enthralled by the story, if not by the musician's rather less than stellar voice. As the song progressed, however, I began to like it less and less. It began to hit too close to home, for the girl of the song tarried with princes and scorned her parents. She, too, had ordered three dresses to be made in impossible colors and had gone to three balls wearing them. My hand shook as I tried to delicately lift my teacup to my lips. I nearly spat out the tea when the minstrel sang of the catskin cloak.

Thomhas caught my eye and I tried to choke as silently as I could. "Shall we go, Kelryian?" His voice, always soft, was almost lost in the jarring cant of the song.

"Yes, oh yes, please." I set the cup down on its saucer with a clatter. "Please, Thomhas, now."

He took my arm and led me from the café in the heart of Anselme where minstrels sang of me and reviled my deeds. I cringed as I heard the minstrel decry us in a sharp tone, his words following us. I took one look back and, at the sight of my pale, terrified face, he began to laugh and point.

Thomhas handed me his handkerchief as I began to cry.

**Author's Note**: So this chapter has been sitting here for a while, just waiting for me to get around to it. Tsk, tsk. Well, here it is now and I hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is always appreciated! I will do my best to update as quickly as possible, but nothing is guaranteed, what with school and all. I hope everyone is having a nice school experience and all! J


	26. Rise and Fall

**Chapter Twenty-Six**: Rise and Fall

Several long weeks passed before I would willingly go to the public markets again; I clung to privacy of the gated gardens that Mathieu showed me, his round face lighting up with delight whenever I exclaimed over a particularly beautiful bloom or when I smiled. Thomhas would occasionally accompany us, but more often than not, he bowed out, citing private affairs that he had to attend to.

On certain evenings, we would all dress for some soiree or another and parade ourselves around before the high society of Anselme, allowing them to watch us much as we watched them. Thom encouraged me to attempt to create some sort of social connections with the ladies of Anselme, but they were more reserved than I was used to and so, forging friendships on such short notice proved difficult.

"Kelryian," Thomhas whispered into my ear at one such event, "Do you see that woman over there? The one with the green dress?"

"I do." I kept my gaze as subtle as possible, ostensibly looking down at my folded hands. "What of her?"

"She is the Marquise de Roibe and a very powerful woman indeed. You should do your best to try and talk to her. She has the potential to be quite helpful to us." My companion placed a warm, gloved hand on my shoulder. "Do your best, my dear. I know it's hard."

I sighed. "I suppose. Must I do it now?"

"The sooner, the better, I should think." Thomhas helped me to stand and, as I smoothed out the wrinkles of my gown, he smiled encouragingly at me. "She's really quite friendly, or so I've heard."

I frowned. _Friendly _in the terms of Anselme's aristocrats meant that she would probably say at least three words before ignoring me completely, unlike the usual one. While the people of this city-state were wonderfully exuberant and outgoing, the aristocrats were the exact opposite. Both women and men were expected to say as little as possible and to be as concise as possible. Encounters between two individuals were almost always briefer than I preferred and they were never longer than was absolutely necessary.

My status, which was a complicated matter indeed, did not help my standing in the eyes of the locals. Somehow, despite the clever ruse that Thomhas and I had put together, they knew that neither of us was there purely socially. We were not the happy couple on holiday in the artistic town renowned for its relaxation and good company. We were something different—an enigma.

The good citizens of Anselme did not appreciate this.

I risked an overture with the Marquise de Roibe. "Good evening, ma'am."

She appraised me quickly, the epitome of efficiency. "Yes?" Apparently, pleasantries were out of style this week.

"I was wondering if, perhaps, we might chat a little?" Awkwardly, I tried to apply the manners of my childhood to my present situation. It was not entirely successful.

"Aren't we?"

Well. I supposed so, and I said as much. "I guess, then, what I really wanted to talk to you about was a rather complicate matter." I was probably overusing the word "complicated", but every situation seemed to demand it.

"My dear Sera dy Cattalo," Marquise de Roibe turned away from me and spoke discreetly to the rose nearest her. "I would suggest that you put in an appearance tomorrow afternoon at a small gathering at my house."

"How small?"

"I shall be there. You wish to speak to me and me alone, yes?" She returned her gaze to me. "Yes?" The repetition prodded me into action.

"Yes." I paused, thinking as quickly as my mind could blunder along. "But why not now?"

A long sigh was drawn like ribbon from the great chest of the Marquise de Roibe. "I am busy, now."

"Of course, madam." Suddenly, my social graces leapt to my tongue. "As you wish, I will most certainly present myself to your good will tomorrow afternoon at your manse. I would be delighted to, in fact. I shall let Ser dy Cattalo know at once." When I reconsidered, my social graces seemed more like frustrated sarcasm, but I had stopped minding little things like those which might offend one of the most powerful women in the city-state.

"No."

My foot raised in mid-step, I swiveled back around, mouth hanging in a similar manner to the foot. "No?"

"Just you."

And that was all. There was nothing more to the exchange. I felt like throwing my champagne glass at her. Storming as quietly as I could back to Thomhas, I thought over the invitation again.

"Well, Kelryian, how did it go?"

"Quickly." I was pouting.

"I observed as much." The dry laughter in his voice was all too apparent. I supposed that I preferred it to wet laughter, although I wasn't quite sure what that was at all. I supposed it would be rather messy. "Did you accomplish anything?"

"I have a meeting. Tomorrow."

"Excellent! You shall have a wonderful time, I'm sure." Thomhas punctured the seal I had created between my arm and my body and rather firmly took my arm. "Stop pouting, dear."

"I am not pouting!" My voice rose a little too loud. "Not at all," I muttered.

"Suit yourself. Would you like another glass of champagne?" Thomhas was guiding me towards the fountain that sparkled deliciously in the dusk. "Or perhaps something else?"

"Champagne is fine." I scooped some delicately into my glass, sticking out one pinky from the stem of the glass as I dipped. It was so elegant. Ulga would have been proud. "Can I talk to you?"

"We are talking, Kelryian, if you hadn't noticed." He grinned as I glared at him. "Fine. I shan't kid you for a while yet, not until you're slightly more intoxicated."

"Delightful. But really, Thomhas, I need to talk to you." I think I wanted actual conversation more than anything else, rather than all these potential conversations that were nipped in the bud by the taciturn nature of the aristocrats. I couldn't, however, fathom having a conversation in view of said aristocrats—it seemed too taboo. "Gardens, Thomhas. Let's take a walk."

We nodded genially to Mathieu as we strolled by him and he smiled cheerily, his face red and glowing with a sheen of alcohol-induced joy. He didn't, however, stop in his conversation with the man his was furiously whispering at. At least, I conceded, all of the Anselme aristocrats didn't keep as silent as possible.

As soon as we were behind the nearest bush, Thomhas dropped my arm and turned to face me. I took a heady gulp of the champagne, feeling it sparkle all the way down to my stomach. "I can't stand this silence."

"You'll survive.' He shrugged unsympathetically. "Which is, in fact, more important, in the long run."

"I should think so," I snorted. I rather liked being alive, but then again, I didn't know that anyone was out to kill me. "But Thomhas, will you just…talk to me?" I felt so pathetic saying it, but it was what was on my mind.

"Of course, milady, anything for you." He paused for a moment, his eyes taking in my face, my expression and the way I was anxiously chewing on my lip. "It will get chapped if you keep doing that," he advised me.

"I know. Can't help it." I kept chewing, watching his eyes focusing on my mouth. "I've done it ever since I was a child, but only when I'm nervous."

Thomhas met my gaze and placed a soft, gloved hand on my shoulder. "What are you nervous about now?" He seemed to truly want to know, but I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him.

Within a few heartbeats, it all came tumbling out anyway. "I don't want to meet the Marquise de Roibe tomorrow. She scares me. I'm scared of her. I don't want to go alone. I don't want to do a lot of things." I stopped, breathing, trying to dissect my thoughts.

"I can send someone with you." His hand had slipped to my elbow.

"No, that won't do. She invited me only. She was rather…" I paused again, mulling over the correct word, "She was rather specific on that one."

"Ah, I see." He sighed. "That's rather unfortunate."

"Yes." I sighed, echoing his. "So what do I do? I don't want to go, but you want me to go, but…I don't know." I could feel tears pricking at my eyes like needles, but I refused to let them burst through. "Thomhas…" I couldn't get past his name.

"What is it?"

I wasn't sure. "I want to go home." And I did. I wanted to go home to where I didn't have to play at intrigue, pretending I was some great and noble personage who was worth the time of all the others who were playing at being great and noble personages. It was all very tiring, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I didn't say all of that, because I couldn't stand to think that Thomhas would know everything. In fact, I didn't think I would tell anyone all of what I was thinking, ever, simply because I couldn't trust them.

Well, perhaps I could, but I certainly didn't let myself believe that.

"Kelryian?"

Oh. Thomhas had been saying something. Probably something comforting, but I couldn't be sure. "Yes?"

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to."

I clasped his gloved hand in mine. "But I think I have to." The Marquise had surmised my intentions and had invited me without a spoken request. It seemed fairly mandatory, to me.

"In that case, try not to think about it." His fingers curled around mine. "You'll be fine, I'm sure."

I nodded perfunctorily. "Since that seems to be settled, I think I shall go…do something." I had to do something to distract myself from thinking.

"Kelryian?"

I paused, mid-step. "Yes, Thomhas?"

He caught my hand again, pulling it up to his lips for a light, butterfly kiss. "This is home now."

This truth was not something that made me especially happy.

**Author's Note**: Sorry about the several-month gap in between these past two chapters…school has kept me extraordinarily busy. But…I love it! (School, that is, not being busy all the time.) In between studying and working and actually going to classes, there's not much time left over for writing. But now! Now, there is break, and I have a chapter for you! Hurrah!

If the style of this doesn't really fit with what's been written, I apologize; it's been a while and my writing habits have changed somewhat. Also, please let me know if anything in this chapter doesn't make sense with what's already happened. I'd really appreciate it! )

Thanks to everyone who reviewed back so long ago…if you would be so kind once more, I'd really appreciate the feedback. Thank you!


	27. Butterfly Gardens

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**: Butterfly Gardens

"Sera dy Cattalo!" The Marquise came out and bestowed two airy kisses on my cheeks. "How lovely it is to see you!" The Marquise in her home was much different from the Marquise at one of Anselme's tortuous soirees. "Isn't today such a nice day?" She ushered me inside with a delicately manicured hand resting neatly in the small of my back.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Marquise."

"My dear, call me Arielle, it is ever so much nicer than _Marquise_." She smiled artlessly. "It is ever so much more…liquid, yes?"

"Naturally." I felt a small smile coming to my lips. "Arielle." I tested it out and she smiled serenely.

"Now, Kelryian—may I call you Kelryian? Good—it really is high time that we talked." I, of course, was rather lost. I had come here, knowing only that I should try and befriend the Marquise, but I had been instructed to do nothing else. What would I talk about with this unpredictable woman?

"Of course," I murmured politely, wishing that I could hide all of my uncertainties.

"Now," Arielle de Roibe pronounced, depositing me on a well-cushioned couch in the foyer of her grand home, "I do believe that you've come to talk to me about your petition for citizenship here in Anselme?"

Really. Well, that was interesting. "I suppose, if that's what you'd like to talk about." I settled a smile onto my lips. "I came here at your invitation." Oh, that was good. I congratulated myself for talking around my purpose.

Arielle looked at me rather strangely, her perfectly arched brows rising higher. "Well, it is something that must be discussed. But perhaps later." She smiled warmly. "First, I want to get to know you!"

This woman was entirely overwhelming; I had next to no idea of how to talk to her, much less befriend her. I stuttered mildly, and then gained my verbal feet again. "What would you like to know?"

"Tell me about you—how did you meet your husband?" She perched forward on her own couch, her eyes sparkling with interest.

"My husband?" I was confused. I had no husband. I had almost had two…well, maybe only one, I admitted, but still…I didn't actually have a husband.

"Ser dy Cattalo…" She prompted me kindly.

"I know his name, thank you." I was afraid that I had snapped at her, but the smile never even wavered. "I met Thomhas at a gala that my parents were throwing." I smiled softly, remembering that night. It was the night that my betrothal to Gerand al Monteville was announced. "I wasn't dancing for some reason. I think it was because I was thoroughly annoyed at my governess and wanted to spite her." The smile grew bigger. "I was too busy pouting on the balcony to pay attention to much else when Thomhas found me. I do believe he made me say that I enjoyed eating little children and all because I wasn't paying attention!" We both laughed together.

"And did you know then?" Arielle, I suddenly realized, was not too much older than I was. Although her serenity and extreme control in social situations made her seem far older than her years, she couldn't have been more than four years my senior.

"Did I know what?"

"That you were in love?" She looked so hopeful.

"Well…no." I sighed. Lying would be the hard part; I wasn't an exceptional storyteller when it came to my own life. "At first, I didn't like him much at all. He terrified me, actually. But after a while…I knew." I scrambled to resurrect memories of all the times I had seen Thomhas. "We were in the cathedral in Tännon-city and I saw him. And then..." I thought back to all the feelings that I'd had for Daryan, how he'd made me feel. "My soul, I think it was, began to yearn for him in a way I'd never known. The simplest sight of him would bring a smile to my face and when he'd take my hand, or smile back, or anything really—if he'd scratched his nose, even—I'd think that the world was a better place."

The Marquise looked at me with such tenderness in her eyes that I almost started crying for the love that had deserted me. "You really are in love, aren't you?"

A tight smile drew my lips apart. "Yes."

And then I began to think of Thomhas again, and of the first time he kissed me.

"What? What are you thinking of now?" Arielle begged me to tell her, for I think she feared that she herself was not in love and would never be in love.

"The first time that Thom kissed me, I was so surprised. He was so very, very gentle and precise about it." A true smile came back. "I liked it quite a bit, and the memory of that kiss stayed with me until…now."

Arielle grinned. "That is absolutely adorable." She laughed, a brilliant sound in the afternoon air. "I hope that one day I shall find someone to love as much as you love your husband."

"It is rather nice." I blushed modestly, ashamed for lying to this girl who was so obviously looking to me as a fount of knowledge for something that I know nothing about. "But I thought you were married?" I had most certainly heard of the Marquis de Roibe.

"Oh no!" She shook her head. "My brother and I hold the title jointly and manage our estates together. I suppose when he gets married, I shall lose the title, but that's not exceptionally likely at this point." She smiled. "He's nine."

I smiled in return. "So you take care of the official business while he grows up?"

"Precisely." Arielle nodded emphatically. "But in the meantime, I am supposed to be looked for a prospective match for myself. It's rather unorthodox, yes, but it is necessary as a means to an end."

"Sometimes," I posited, "It's necessary to take your life into your own hands. It just works out better." Shrugging, I continued. "Others don't always know what's best for you, nor do they always have your best interests at heart."

The Marquise de Roibe was practically glowing with excitement. "Exactly! It's been so frustrating here because so few care to understand that school of thought." She sighed expansively, the silk of her gown shimmering as she moved. "And it's so absolutely frustrating that no one here seems to enjoy conversation! It's perfectly uncultured, don't you think?" Her mouth split wide into a grin at my astonishment. "I know, it seems so odd, doesn't it? I do so enjoy conversation, not that yesterday was any proper indication of that. I apologize for that, by the way."

This sudden outpouring of words from the most expressive mouth I had ever seen simply had me stunned beyond speech. I am afraid that I stared at her for quite sometime before I was able to formulate a response. "Marquise de Roibe," I began formally, trying to retreat into semi-familiar ground. "Your love of conversation is astonishing, to say the least." Suddenly, I was again comfortable with the world of words. "Arielle, I think you are entirely right; without conversation, we are nothing."

The woman before me nodded enthusiastically, her satisfaction with me more than apparent. I had found favor in the eyes of at least one of the gentry of Anselme. My heart beat slowed from a nervous skip to the steady, content pulse of one who has found a friend.

For that was what Arielle and I became in that afternoon. She was my first true friend since Livingston, and I rejoiced in it. She told me of her family and their prestige, of her younger brother and his exploits and of the man she was not sure she loved. "Jasper is so…so…I don't know." Her pretty lips formed an even prettier pout. "He's so very, very handsome, but at the same time, I think that perhaps he is too handsome."

I snorted indelicately. "Too handsome? You're not serious, are you?"

Arielle nodded. "But I am! I'm afraid that he's just good looks and no intelligence whatsoever. What if he can't actually converse with me? What if he's just like all the others here, who have been bred for silence, rather than for speech?"

Again, the indelicate snort burst out, an event for which Ulga would have scolded me. "Have you talked to this Jasper?"

"Of course." Arielle's face screwed up with confusion. "Why?" Her hands twisted and wove together artlessly in her lap, betraying her worry.

"Has he kept a conversation then?"

"Well…yes, I suppose." She brightened a little, one of her delicate hands pausing in its course to snatch up a cookie. As she munched on her cookie, the young Marquise wondered aloud, spewing cookie crumbs everywhere. "Do you think that that means he's more than just a face?"

"Well, I haven't met him, but yes, I do believe so."

That was all she needed to hear before she went off rhapsodizing the wonders of this Jasper. Now that she was reassured that her love for Jasper could have some merit and may actually have been real, she was satisfied for the time being and could happily carry on as a carefree young woman, rather than the Marquise she was supposed to be. I understood, in that moment that had been caked with lies and deceit on my part, that she was absolutely guileless when she was truly herself. Arielle was no more politician than she was a queen, but she was simply and beautifully a woman who had the hopes and dreams of an entire world before her.

At that moment, I felt terribly cheated of my youth. I had spent it recklessly and all in one place, saving none for another time. Moderation had not been my forte and now, oh, now, I was paying heavily for that. I was stuck in a country that was not my own, under the protection of man who I was pretending to be married to. I was without a country, without family, without anything to ground me.

But I had Arielle.

"Kelryian?" She had paused in her recitation of Jasper's virtues and how much she adored him and he her to inquire about my forlorn expression.

"I'm fine," I said, shaking my head. "I was just thinking about how my mother gave me advice on love." Oh, lies, lies! My mother had done nothing of the sort. She had just told me to get married and get it over with. Nothing was said about love.

"Really?" Arielle was all smiles again. "What did she say?"

"Nothing much." I shrugged, once again uncomfortable with the lying. "Just the usual, 'it's the most wonderful thing in the world, if it's true' nonsense."

"Nonsense? But isn't it?" Suddenly worried again, she reached out and took my hand.

The bitterness crept back into my smile like the first frost crept across the late harvest. "No. Not exactly." My fingers wound around hers, grateful for their warmth and comfort. "It's more work and less play; I'll put it that way." I didn't really want to talk about it—after all, my only love had been one of the most painful and complicated experiences of my entire, short life.

"Well, I know that. Nothing comes easily." She squeezed gently before withdrawing her hand. "But now, my dear, I do believe it's time for us to part ways." Her smile was apologetic. "Affairs of the realm to attend to, and all that."

I laughed, happy with her flippancy. "Of course. We certainly can't sit around chatting idly forever."

Rising, she kissed my cheek firmly and informed me that we would be doing this again, and rather soon at that. "I just can't stand silence, you know. It's not becoming."

Just hearing her chatter on contently about how much she loved to talk pleased me to no end and it was with a happy heart that I left the house of Marquise de Roibe.

Upon my return to the residence of Comte d'Ardenne, Thom greeted me with a worried expression on his face. "Kelryian? How did it go?"

I waltzed up to him and kissed his cheek happily. "It went well, no need to worry about me." I laughed at his shocked face. "The Marquise de Roibe is completely different when she is not out in society. She's really quite lovely." I grinned wildly. "We have a friend in Anselme!"

Thom laughed, hesitantly at first. "You are a wonder, my dear." He slipped his arm through mine. "So what did you talk about?"

"Oh, this and that, you know." I smiled at his annoyed expression. "Of course you don't know," I anticipated his comment dryly. "You wouldn't have asked otherwise. Well." I paused, to let him finish laughing at my antics. "We talked about our lives, mostly. It was pure social, nothing political about it at all. We…made friends with one another."

Thomhas paused and turned to face me. "Kelryian, you do realize that we need her to ensure our position here?"

I placed a finger on his lips. "Thomhas dy Cattalo, please. Do not rush these things. All will be well with the world."

Slowly, a smile blossomed on his lips. "You really are quite impressive, if I do say so myself." He tucked my arm back into his. "I shan't worry presently."

"She asked about you, you know." I grinned as curiosity lit his face. "She thinks you're a very lucky man."

"And why might that be?"

"Well," I said, conspiratorially, "You're lucky because you've me!" I giggled girlishly. "She thinks we're married." I felt a quick surge of excitement as I said this, but tacitly ignored it.

Thom laughed too, although I believe I laughed longer. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Kelryian."

Immediately, I was all seriousness. "Yes?"

"Mathieu thinks it's rather odd that we sleep separately, for he, too, believes us married. He won't say anything out right, but I know he thinks it. I think we need to discuss this, if we are to continue with this charade."

"Indeed." I could feel my insides tightening with nerves. "What is your opinion on the matter?"

"Most of the suites in this household, at least, have more than one bedroom. If you would be amenable to this arrangement, we could easily share one of those while still remaining separate." He paused. "Or, we could divulge the truth to him and, ultimately, to all of Anselme."

I didn't like that last bit. I shook my head. "Any other ideas?"

"Marry me." He was rather blunt with it, and so at first I hadn't really registered what he was saying. As soon as I realized, my eyes opened wide and I found that I couldn't really breathe.

"That's….not very romantic of you," I breathed, desperately searching for a proper response to a hypothetical proposal. "You didn't even get down on one knee."

When he grinned, I relaxed. "Sorry, darling, it was rather spur of the moment." I smiled tentatively. "Anyway, Kelryian," he said, running a hand through his dark hair. "Those seem to be our options."

"Are we going to be staying here in Anselme, then?" My voice was small, like the smallest mouse trying to avoid the cat.

"Yes, I believe so." Thom led me into the private salon that adjoined his set of rooms. "We shall eventually find our own place to live, as Mathieu can't support us forever. But that will only come after we establish ourselves as citizens of Anselme."

All of this planning for the future was making my head hurt. I wasn't exceptionally gifted at thinking ahead; in fact, my abilities to think ahead were second only to my poetic ability. "So many things to think about!" I chose one of the sitting chairs and draped my legs over one of the arms, letting the cool blue of my skirts drip down to the floor like water. "Thom," I asked, twisting so that I could see him where he sat, "What are we to do? I can't marry you and we can't just suddenly come out and tell everyone that no, we're not really married and that yes, we did lie to everyone, can we? We certainly can't pass for siblings."

"No, you're correct, saying we're siblings is not an option." Thom pondered our situation, his chin resting on one gloved fist. After a long pause, he asked, "Why can't you marry me?"

I shrugged. "I barely know you. And it wouldn't be right, anyway. We're not romantically inclined towards one another, right? So it'd be absurd for you to marry me."

Thomhas imitated my shrug. "Perhaps."

"Precisely." I bit my lip and stared at the floor, while all the while, a little flutter in the darkest recesses of my soul whispered one word to me, over and over again:

_Liar, liar, liar! _

**Author's Note**: So score! Another chapter! And it's kind of…long, too! I hope you enjoy it…and thank you very much to all the people who gave me feedback. It really helped. :)

Hope ya'll are having a nice January!

(Chapter 28 coming soon to a story near you! No, seriously!)


	28. A Play in Three Acts

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**: A Play in Three Acts

It took a few scant days before the invitations to parties began to flood Comte d'Ardenne's household. Mathieu himself was overwhelmed, his belly jiggling with excitement. According to him, he had been out of the social circle for years, his status as widower rendering him obsolete in the eyes of the young and newly wed.

Suddenly, we were at every tea, every luncheon and every performance there was to be seen. I was now the very stunned owner of what felt like several thousand new gowns; I didn't wear any of them more than once every two months, I'm sure. Thomhas also looked dashing as he dressed to match. We made a very striking appearance every time.

Mathieu, of course, loved every minute of it. He had been the one to order all the new dresses (for morning, afternoon and night) and suits. It was like a holiday to him and he enjoyed spoiling his two dear guests. I was the granddaughter he had never had and he delighted in treating me as though I was the finest princess he'd ever seen. I, of course, loved every moment as well; Mathieu and I got along fabulously.

Arielle, too, was only too happy to have me suddenly invited to so many of the events that she herself was present at. I suspected that it was her doing that found us happily drowning in a deluge of events, but I didn't mind. Everyone was enjoying themselves. Arielle and I soon became fast friends, whispering behind fans to one another at the opera and carrying on a lively conversation whenever we didn't have to be quiet. Finally, I met the love of her life, the handsome Jasper d'Ethos. He was everything she'd said of him and more. Charming, eloquent and one of the handsomest men I'd seen, Jasper adored Arielle as she adored him. Soon, a new society set had formed, with Arielle and I at the center.

Thomhas, too, was enjoying himself. He was happier than I'd seen him and he almost always arrived to escort me somewhere with a flower of some sort for me. In public, he called me the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, whispering it in my ear to give me confidence when I was overwhelmed by whatever party we were at. We'd walk in together, his arm curved around my waist and my hand on his, and the knowing looks would start between our fellow guests; _Those two are certainly happily married_ or, _What a good match was made there!_

For the most part, Thom and I ignored those looks and whispers and made our way over to the host and hostess to greet them first, but sometimes…oh, how I loved to preen under the envy of other women who had not been so lucky! It made me blush whenever I acknowledged what I was thinking, but I basked in it nonetheless. Then, of course, I'd remember that I was not married at all, but merely playing at some larger game and the warm glow would disappear except for some last, warm bit that made me press just a little closer to Thomhas.

_Liar, liar, liar_, my heart chanted in an endless refrain.

"Sera dy Cattalo!" I turned around, the hem of my gown skimming over freshly fallen snow. "Dear, do wait for me!"

"Darling," I said dryly, shivering despite the wool coat I was wearing, "I'd wait until the world ended for you." Arielle rushed up and caught my free arm. "How are you this evening? And where's Jasper?"

"Oh, he's coming." Arielle nodded quickly to Thomhas. "Hello there, dear Thomhas!" As soon as Thom nodded genially back, she returned her attention to me. "I'm doing splendidly this evening! Would you like to know something?"

"Of course," I said, grinning. "I'm always interested in knowing what you have to say."

"Hush, you." She grinned. "I think tonight might be the night!"

I felt Thom suppress a snort beside me and I made sure to accidentally kick some snow at him. "You think so?" _The night_ was the night that Jasper would propose to Arielle. She had been trying to guess for the past month when it would be.

"Yes! I do think so!" She grinned and clutched my arm tightly. "Do I look beautiful enough? Where do you think he'll do it?"

I paused for a moment, trying to stifle my own laughter. Jasper had been planning this for just as long as Arielle had been guessing and he had come to the Ser and Sera dy Cattalo for advice. Thom and I had thoroughly enjoyed helping him plan his proposal to the love of his life. "Perhaps by the fountain?" This guess, which wasn't really a guess, was entirely wrong.

"What about the garden?" Thom suggested. He was having great difficulty speaking with a straight face.

"Oh, I'm so excited! I just know tonight is it!" Arielle had been saying this every night that we had gone out together. Tonight, she was actually right. "Do I look fine? Worthy of him?"

"Arielle, sweetheart, calm down." I smiled lovingly at her; in three months since I had first met her, we had become ever closer. "You always look lovely."

"Divine," Thomhas added cheerily.

"Oh, good." Arielle reached up and brushed a lock of her mahogany hair into place, then immediately took it out again and twirled it around her finger. "I do so love snow!"

Many pleasantries later, after we had greeted the host and hostess, the Lord and Lady le'Arete, and were wandering around having pointless and brief conversations with the other aristocrats present, I finally managed to slip away from Arielle for a moment. Quickly, I found Jasper and wished him luck after making sure he looked presentable. I told him where I had last seen Arielle and that I would make sure that she was at the archway at the proper time. He thanked me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Kelryian, you're an angel."

"Only a snow angel," I retorted happily. "I melt in the sunshine."

"Go, go get her!" I laughed at his impatience and went to go find Arielle.

"There you are!" The anxious Marquise attached herself to me. "Have you seen Jasper?"

"No, not recently," I lied happily. "I suppose he's just running late making sure he looks his best for you!" Smiling broadly, I herded her over to the marble archway that framed a stained glass window of surpassing beauty. "You, Arielle, sit here and wait for me to get back."

"Why do I have to stay?" She practically whined, her anxiety bringing out her less favorable features.

"Darling, just sit, relax and stop thinking about that man for a moment!" I laughed merrily. "I'll get you some champagne."

"I'd like a glass of red wine, if you please." Arielle settled her mouth into that pretty pout and prepared to sulk until I got back. Just as I reached the table where drinks were sitting, already poured, I heard her shriek.

"He's done it, hasn't he?" Thomhas was standing beside me, his arm around my waist as I beamed in the direction of Jasper and Arielle.

"Yes, I do believe he has." Arielle has attracted the attention of all the guests with her excitement and so they all watched Jasper kneeling before her, asking her to marry him, and they all witnessed Arielle's passionate way of saying yes. I heard some appalled comments as the older ones among us turned away from the couple who were kissing each other enthusiastically, but the younger generation was quite entertained.

When Jasper and Arielle finally ceased staring into each other's eyes and saying "I love you", they rejoined the party. Arielle was positively shining with delight and Jasper was no different. The two of them left early, no doubt to enjoy each other's company privately.

"I told you!" Arielle whispered to me as she hugged me good-bye for the night.

"Of course, darling." I kissed her cheek quickly. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you!" And then they were gone.

Thomhas and I stayed as long as Mathieu did, which wasn't much longer. With the grand entertainment over for the night, we were not too averse to leaving. In the carriage on the ride home, with snow still softly falling, I fell asleep on Thom's shoulder, quietly dreaming until we arrived at Mathieu's house.

From there, Thom carried me to my own bed, his arms wrapped close around me. Sleepily, I bid Mathieu goodnight, but did not completely wake up. As I was placed, fully dressed, into bed, I felt the briefest touch on my lips before I was completely asleep again.

The next morning, when I awoke, I wondered why I was still wearing my pretty new gown. Then, I vaguely remembered falling asleep and understood why. I groaned and called for one of the maids to help me get out of the contraption.

Once undressed and bathed and dressed once more, I went to take breakfast. Starving as I was, for there was rarely any food of substance at those soirees, I easily ate my way through an omelet and a pile of toast before deciding that I was full.

Mathieu arrived just as I was finishing my morning tea and bid me a cheery good morning before squeezing into his own place at the table. "Last night was simply divine, Kelryian! Simply divine!"

I grinned. "It was, wasn't it! And the snow…oh, the snow just added that perfect extra touch."

"You'll be happy to know, my dear, that Arielle is begging your help with planning her wedding now. She's got no mother to help her, _mein Gott!_ The poor dear will need all the help she can get." Mathieu fanned his face. "Planning weddings for you girls is impossible, but you shall have your own experiences to draw upon."

There it went again, that guilt tickling my stomach and screaming _liar_ through my gut. "Of course. It should be quite fun!" A smile stretched across my unwilling lips. "I can't wait!"

Then, Thomhas was there as well, wearing riding clothes and smelling of horse. "The whole city is talking of Arielle's engagement! You should hear them!" He grinned. "Jasper is, I think, the happiest man on earth."

"And you aren't?" Mathieu, kindly old gentleman that he was, kept trying to get us to talk about our marriage. "You've married one of the prettiest girls on the face of this earth!" He patted my hand across the table. "And she loves you!"

I nodded quickly. "Indeed, Mathieu, indeed."

Thom flashed a broad smile. "I am truly honored to have the affection of my wife." Then, he gave me one of those looks that meant we would be talking later about this. I sighed. He always made it seem like it was my fault.

Quickly, I finished my tea and escaped to my room. I hid there until Thomhas came to find me. He knocked first, but didn't wait for me to say come in.

"Kelryian, this situation is getting out of hand."

I picked a piece of blonde hair off of my pillow. "What do you mean?" Nonchalant—I was so nonchalant. But not really.

"I can't keep…performing like this." He still smelled of horse and of sweat. "It's just not right."

"Why not?" I twirled a strand of my hair around my finger, and then let it fall over the edge of the bed. "I've been performing like this since I was fifteen, Thomhas, if not longer."

"True." He sank down onto the chair by the door. "But still. I think it's…not right."

"And how are we going to get married, then, Thom?" I sat up and tucked my legs and skirts underneath me. "Everyone believes us to married already and don't you think it would be rather strange to go through the ceremony again?"

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just the legal matters, Kelry. It's more."

This was getting annoying. Every so often, we'd have these discussions. Every time, we'd come to no conclusion. "What, then?"

"There are ambassadors coming from Tännon who know that we are not married. They will tell everyone here and then we shall be undone." Thom, never one to sit still when anxious, began pacing. "We need to figure out something."

"Thom, come here." I patted the bed next to me. I couldn't stand to see him pacing. "Sit. Stop moving around. You're making me nervous."

He laughed softly. "Sorry, nervous habit."

"I'm well aware."

Thom looked at me then, with those dark eyes of his, and smiled. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" I was still irritable from the uncomfortable breakfast this morning.

"How do you stay so calm?" His hand brushed my cheek, the leather of the glove soft against it. "I don't understand you at all."

"It's habit." I grinned suddenly. "A nervous habit, perhaps." Again, seriousness fell like a curtain over my face. "What do you propose we do, Ser dy Cattalo?"

"Well, Sera dy Relandrant," He used my true name for the first time in months, "I think that you should marry me in a very quiet ceremony so that when the ambassadors from Tännon come, they will have no grounds on which to out us."

I sighed and looked at my lap. His proposals were always lacking what I was looking for—with Daryan, I had found it. If Daryan had proposed to me, it would have been with love and passion and because we were in love, not as a convenience. With the memory of Jasper and Arielle in my mind, still fresh, I was sorely disappointed by this sterile proposal. "Thom." I looked at him, my eyes full of sorrow and anger and frustration. "I…can't." I shrugged. "Who would be our witness?"

"Kelryian," He looked pained. "We must. I'll tell Mathieu, and he'll be our witness. We will find a way."

"But…" I couldn't find a way to voice my objection, really. I didn't know how to phrase the idea of love to this man who had seen me love another. "Why do you wear gloves?"

He looked down at his hands, startled. "I…I don't know. I just do."

"Take them off." I reached for his hands and started pulling the leather away, revealing his hands, which looked no different than any other man's hands. Finally, I held his hands in mine. "I cannot marry you, Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo." I stared straight into his bottomless eyes, losing myself in them. I was so lost that I didn't even notice that he'd moved toward my until his lips touched mine and his fingertips were tracing my cheek. Startled at first, I almost pulled away until Thom's hands blocked my way. Then, oh, then! I let myself be suffused with a passion that I had almost forgotten. I tangled my hands in the dark hair that he was always running his hands through and felt it, silky, running along my palms.

"Will you marry me now?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Maybe." I laughed at his frustration. "Kiss me again and I'll let you know."

**Author's Note:** Yes, it's happened. Finally! I bet you're all excited, right? I know I am… :D I hope you enjoyed this latest installment. My goal is to finish this before I go back to school. School just eats up my time like nothing else. Hmmph.

So anyway, let me know your opinions on this chapter—feedback is always welcomed! Thanks for reading!


	29. Let the Bells Ring Out

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**: Let the Bells Ring Out

The weeks flew by as winter melted into a soft, earthy spring and as Arielle's wedding took shape. It started out small, because neither of us had any idea as to what we were doing. I had never been married and neither had she. "Do you think green is inappropriate?"

"Green," I thought for a moment, "Is never inappropriate. It can go with just about anything—warm colors, cool colors, all of them go well enough." I picked up a piece of creamy lace. "Is this for your dress?"

Arielle giggled. "I think so. It's so pretty…" She smiled and held it up against her beautiful, flawless skin. "Doesn't it look so pretty?" She sighed dramatically. "There's so much to be done. I don't have time to be falling in love with my dress just yet."

Laughing, I told her that Jasper would be rather annoyed if she chose a dress over him. "But really, darling, you're right. What is your color scheme?"

Ultimately, she chose a neat sage green for most of the decorations, which would be offset with rose accents and, to appease Jasper's manlier preferences, a deep, hunter green for everything else. There were yards of fabric everywhere, strewn haphazardly over the backs of chairs and across tables. Sage, rose and hunter green were inescapable, surrounding us as they did. Silks, satins, georgettes, laces and so many other fabrics gave us choice, which sometimes seemed like too much.

By the time that spring was burning its way into summer, everything was planned. The cathedral where the wedding was to be held was reserved for her, the staff for the reception afterwards had been hired and the menu chosen. There were to be the most delectable delicacies that I had ever seen. Everything from meringues to flan was slated to make a guest appearance. Every time I thought of all the delicious foods that were to be there, my mouth would start to water and I would get absurdly hungry. Arielle, of course, looked more and more radiant as the months went by. At dress fittings, she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen, her graceful mannerisms and ready smile garnering affection from every direction.

The dress was a masterpiece. Made of creamy satin, it fell seamlessly to the floor, trailing behind her elegantly. With ever step, the train would pool behind her, a study in organic beauty. It was the epitome of simplicity; the empire waist flattered her slender frame and made her seem even more luscious than ever. With but a single shoulder covered, it was tempting and lovely and refined all at once. I was thoroughly impressed.

"Oh, Kelry, don't you just love it?" Arielle spun around effortlessly, her arms thrown wide. "I feel like a princess or a goddess!" She was so child-like in her exuberance and I couldn't help but laugh with her.

"You're absolutely lovely!" I smiled breathlessly. "Jasper is going to love it."

"I don't think he'll care much, actually." My friend smiled mischievously. "I think he'll only care what's under it."

"Arielle!" Mock-horrified, I chided her. "You're a grown woman. You should be more dignified than that."

"You know it's true." That same smile crept up her lips. "Don't deny it. You know that Thomhas certainly isn't interested in your clothes whenever he tells you you're beautiful." She grinned as I blushed horribly.

"Let's talk about flowers," I demanded, only too happy to get away from a topic that I was still unsure of. Arielle, happy to discuss any aspect of her upcoming wedding, cheerfully blathered on for the rest of the dress fitting about lilies and roses and carnations and whatever other strange flowers she was including in her bouquet. I spent my time contemplating my own upcoming marriage. I dreaded it…but at the same time, I wanted it to happen now.

"Kelryian, darling, are you ready?" Thomhas' hands were sliding around my waist as he spoke, drawing me closer. "The carriage is waiting and Mathieu is ready and deliriously excited." His breath tickled the hairs on the back of my neck. "And I am certainly ready."

I turned around in his arms and stole a kiss. "Let's go get married."

And we did. It was a simple ceremony with but one guest. There was no reception and no presents, like Arielle and Jasper would receive. The priest who married us was a kindly gentleman, nothing like the fire and brimstone preacher of the church in Tännon-city. As soon as he said "You may kiss the bride," and I was in Thom's arms and really, truly _married_, I began to cry.

"What's wrong?" Thom had swept me up into his arms and was holding me tightly. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Everything," I pronounced through sniffles and rivers of snot, "Is right!"

And it was.

Waking up the next morning was the most beautiful thing in the world. Sunlight brushed my eyelids with warm fingertips, bringing a blush to my cheeks and a smile to my lips. I rolled over, sliding under Thom's arm and watched him sleep. His eyes roved underneath the delicate skin of his eyelids, seeing dreams that only he knew. I wondered what he was dreaming about, and hoped it was me.

Pulling the blankets up over my bare shoulder and remembering the butterfly kisses that Thomhas had placed upon it, I settled in to sleep again, a smile on my lips.

When I woke again, it was Thomhas who was watching me sleep. "Darling" He murmured, his voice rough with sleep, "You are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me."

I smiled sleepily. "As you are to me." Stretching, I felt the last vestiges of the cool morning air brush my arms. "Can you believe it?"

"Believe what?"

I kissed his stubbly cheek. "We're married."

"And I thought you hated me." A fond smile graced his lips. "Dear, sweet Kelryian. I was convinced that you held nothing in your heart but spite for me."

I grinned cheekily. "And I felt the same of you, my dear. So however did we end up married?"

"Well," He began, his voice taking on familiar warmth as he woke more fully. "You and I went to a church one day and said some words and a priest pronounced us man and wife. And then…" He paused, a devilish expression on his face. "I kissed you." Thom demonstrated enthusiastically. I reciprocated in kind, euphoria suffusing my entire being. "And that is how we ended up married."

"But dear-heart," I gasped, reeling from his ardor, "However did you convince a nice girl like me to marry you?"

"Well," He began again, a humorous look in his eyes, "I believe it was like this." He kissed me once more. "Because I think you said, 'Kiss me again'."

"Ah." I rolled over. "You are the charmer."

"And," Thom added, maneuvering so that he could see me, "I love you. And you love me."

I looked up at him, into eyes that were so dark as to be darker than night itself. "This is true. But how did I come to love you? And how did you come to love me?" Ulga had always said that I had a bad habit of asking too many questions.

"I don't know, Kelryian." He flopped back down to the mattress. "I simply don't know."

Rolling over so that I could watch his expression, I asked, "When you kissed me that night, what were you thinking?"

"What night?" Thom seemed infinitely more interested, now that we were talking about something that we both enjoyed immensely.

"The night of my engagement." I sighed, remembering that awful experience. I was infinitely grateful not to be married to Gerand and married instead to the wonderful, exquisite man lying beside me. "When I was not enjoying myself because of that _man_ my father betrothed me to."

"Ah, that night." A half-smile rippled across his lips, echoing my own. "I remember that. You were so…miserable." Our lips touched for the briefest of moments. "Kelryian, sweet Kelryian, I was thinking of how absolutely stunning you were going to grow up to be and how you were to be wasted on a man like Gerand al Monteville." I felt his hand sliding along my leg, tickling me with its barest of contact. "But I have you now, instead, I've rescued you from surest misery and brought you love."

"Indeed you have, Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo."

"Say our names. Together." His fingertips grazed my stomach, tracing my hipbones. "I want to hear them from your mouth."

"You, Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo, are my husband and together, we make Ser Thomhas and Sera Kelryian dy Cattalo, lately of Anselme." I shivered as he brushed an especially sensitive spot. "And I love you," I murmured, my tongue caressing each word, savoring it before it left my lips. "I love you."

"And I love you." With those words set free into the room to linger like smoke, we did not feel the need to say anything else. We did not speak again with words until well past breakfast, at which point we surrendered ourselves to embrace of our wrinkled, sweaty sheets. They smelled like the two of us, a scent that would bring joy to my heart forever.

**Author's Note**: Yes, so this is shorter. I hope you don't mind! I just felt that this was a very good stopping place. In the next chapter, for all of you who want details, will be a real wedding. I'm so excited! I've been looking at pictures of weddings and quizzing my cousin, who's a wedding photographer, for ideas. I haven't been to a wedding in…..6? 8? years, so I don't really remember what happened (even though I was in the wedding. Hmm). If you happen to want to see anything in this wedding, or have any ideas or whatever, let me know. I will do my best to put it in!

Anyway, I hope January is treating everyone well! I know I'm happy—there's snow, sunshine and excellent books now. Just as a warning, updates may get a little (i.e. a lot) slower because I am back at school and that means lots of work. Sigh. But I love school! It's fun. 

So, let me know what you think, ideas for weddings, anything else you want to see…just review and let me know! Thank you in advance—your feedback always helps.


	30. The Beloved is Another Self

**Chapter Thirty:** The Beloved is Another Self

The air had cooled significantly by the time that Thomhas and I arrived at the cathedral where Arielle and Jasper were to be married. Summer ran rampant over the city during the day, but in the night, when the stars shone and the moon bathed the world in her silvery light, the air was like cool water flowing across bare skin. I shivered with pleasure, my hand tucked close into the warmth of Thom's.

Quickly, quietly, and with much barely-stifled excitement, Thom and I made our way to the front of the cathedral, where Johann, the Marquis de Roibe, already stood. I parted from Thom with a subtle kiss and took my place opposite him. Finally, the Comtesse Savriel la Rete, Arielle's cousin, took her place beside me and the ceremony began.

Arielle, quite naturally, was stunning. Everything about her exuded elegance and grace—from her elegantly coiffed hair to her dainty feet, she was a vision in white. She was splendor embodied, all ethereal beauty as she glided down the center aisle of the cathedral. Alone, she walked with a studied pace and steadiness. Not a sign of worry appeared on her face as she reached the alter and took her place next to Jasper. Without looking, she captured his hand in one, almost unnoticeable gesture.

And so, the ceremony began, stately and grandiloquent, but utterly sweet in the end. The priest, with his resonant voice, melted our hearts with his words of love, telling us how sweet a marriage between those who truly loved each other would be. His voice worked its way in between our joints, sliding down to the marrow of our bones and into our bloodstreams, warming us from the inside out and giving us hope.

In the end, it all came down to hope, that extravagant luxury afforded to those in love and the ignorant. Perhaps they were one in the same, but hope belongs to both, and we could all feel it in the moment when Jasper tilted Arielle's chin up towards him and let the gossamer veil fall backwards. As he kissed her ever so sweetly, ever so tenderly, the priest pronounced them man and wife, married for all eternity. It was surreal, this marriage of my friends. Standing next to Arielle as she wept for joy, tears coursing down her face only to get stopped by the broad smile stretched across her lips, I couldn't help but think of the future and, inevitably, of hope. Hope was what kept me going, was what kept all of us going, whether or not it was practical.

Now, Arielle with her new husband turned to their guests, their audience, and welcomed them to join them for a reception. Striding out through the center aisle of the church, Arielle in ethereal white and Jasper in his mysterious, alluring black, the newlyweds gave everyone a new hope for the future, as a good marriage always does.

Thom took my hand lovingly. "I love you," He whispered simply, sweetly. It was all that needed to be said in a moment that was too delicately perfect to handle many more words. In lieu of responding, I kissed his cheek and that was that.

"Sera Kelryian! Tis your turn to speak!" I grinned at the manservant who handed me a champagne flute that was filled to the brim with champagne and raspberries.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" I rose elegantly to my feet, glad that I had limited my wine consumption thus far. "I am to make a speech now on behalf of the newlyweds, my dear friends Arielle and Jasper." They were so happy together, watching me with their hands intertwined. "I have but one thing to say to them, or perhaps it is of them." I paused once more and then quoted, "When asked what a beloved is, he said 'Two souls sharing one body.' To you, Arielle and Jasper," I raised my champagne in a toast, "And to your happiness!" There was a mild smattering of applause and a greater amount of drinking and toasting. With that, however, my duties were done for the night and I was free to dance the night away with Thomhas.

We danced together, cheek pressing against cheek in the low light of the great hall. There were candles floating above us, suspended from gossamer strings to create a starry effect. We'd sway, spin and twirl into pockets of brighter light, letting them highlight us for a moment, before sliding back into the other dancers and the darkness.

"Darling," Thomhas whispered into my ear, "Come with me." His hand snaked down my arm to catch my hand in his. "I've something for you." As he led me away, his hand tightly clasped around mine, I wondered what kind of surprise might be in store for me. Finally, we found ourselves in an alcove that shimmered with the light of a solitary candle.

"What are you doing?" I asked Thom as he knelt beside me, pulling me down with him so that we were both kneeling on two fantastically embroidered cushions. "I know you've got something you're keeping from me."

"I am, but you'll soon know." He kissed me gently on the cheek and then turned away for a brief moment before turning back to me and catching both my hands in one of his. "Kelryian, you are the sweetest woman that I will ever meet by far, and the only one for me." He kissed my knuckles. "Sweetling, dear heart, this is for you." As he kissed me full on the mouth, I felt his fingers sliding something on to one of mine.

As I inspected my hand after he pulled away, I saw the gorgeous ring that he had slipped on while I was distracted. It shone and sparkled luminously in the light of the single, flickering flame, sending iridescent rainbows careening all over the walls.

"For you, Kelryian, for you," He murmured into my ear.

"But what for?"

"Because," he said simply, "I love you and you deserve such things. Now that I can give them to you, I will." He smiled softly at me. "I love you."

"And I you." We kissed, then, beautifully, and I knew we both meant it.

It was, very simply, love.

**Author's Note:** Yes, this is an incredibly short chapter, but I felt that it was fairly self contained. I think it works and is very appropriate for Valentine's Day. I hope you are all having beautiful days, filled with chocolate and flowers and whatever else you love best! I know I'm excited for tonight…)

Random little notes: If you are of age to vote and your state hasn't had its primary/caucus yet, vote in it! Exercise your civil liberties, etc. Also, happy President's Day! Happy Black History Month! Happy…everything! But most of all, enjoy yourselves. 3


	31. A Heart to Heart

**Chapter Thirty-One:** A Heart to Heart

With the wedding festivities over, it was time for us to worry about the delegation that was coming from Tännon. There were plans to be made and things to be done; the only problem was knowing where to start. Mathieu, of course, helped us with the customs of our newly adopted homeland and what Thom and I, as émigrés, were obligated to do. 

Arielle, naturally, was too preoccupied with Jasper and her own happily wedded bliss to be bothered much with the concerns of the delegation. Although it was her official post as the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Thom and I had offered to take on most of the dealings with the foreigners because to us, once, they had been fellow countrymen. And so, one very early sunny morning found Thom, Mathieu and I all huddled around a great board trying to decide who would be standing where during the official ceremony to welcome the delegation from Tännon. I was taking a break from planning the exquisite ball that would come after the ceremony. 

"I just don't want to have to stand next to Prince Daryan, that's all I'm really saying." 

"Mathieu, you won't even be up on the stage with everyone; you won't even be close to him!" Thomhas looked exasperatedly at our benefactor. "You're going to be at the first table."

"Then why is my name next to his?" Mathieu pointed aggressively to the tabletop. "See? Right there!" Old men could be so crotchety. 

"Mathieu, darling," I cooed, placing my hand on his shoulder, "The stage is over there and right now, there are no names on it. We haven't even begun planning that part yet." I sighed. "But when we do, we'll make sure you're not on it." 

"Good." Mathieu harrumphed, shaking his head and muttering something about youngsters. Thom and I just looked at one another, hiding our smiles expertly. 

"Do you need any help with the ball, darling?" Thom was always looking for an excuse to escape the people-positioning. 

"No, I do believe I'm fine." I smiled prettily; after planning a wedding, a ball wasn't nearly as difficult. I didn't have to coordinate any dresses with the wall hangings and I could use a very simple color scheme and get away with it. In short, I had the easy task while they had a more difficult end to pursue. Sauntering back over to my corner where a pot of steaming tea was waiting for me, I smiled, almost pitying them. 

But not quite. 

Two days later, the Tännon ambassadors came. It was a delegation of four of the aristocrats, including Thomhas' uncle. We knew each of the delegates personally, sometimes intimately. 

Prince Daryan val Tännon rode into Anselme on a brilliant spring morning that had a hint of summer in it, surrounded by his retinue. Thomhas and I watched from the courtyard where the aristocracy of Anselme had gathered to greet the diplomats. Thom placed his arm securely around my waist and gently kissed my hair as Daryan, Thomhas' uncle, Ser Asher dy Cattalo, and the others arrived. 

"People of Anselme!" Daryan dismounted fluidly and I felt a dull flutter in my stomach; either it was the flame of my love for him yet burning or a serious case of nerves. I was calling it nerves. "I have come to you to bring tidings of good will. When I take the throne at the end of my father's rule, we shall be fast friends indeed." He smiled broadly. "I declare this to be so!" 

It was at that moment that I caught sight of the rest of the diplomatic party. Gerand al Monteville and my father. "Oh sweet Madonna, Thomhas." 

"Easy, there." Thom held my hand tightly as we fell under the scrutiny of the men of Tännon. "They can't do anything to you, now. You know that." 

I was terrified anyway. 

"Gentle ladies, gentlemen, let me introduce my traveling party; Ser Asher dy Cattalo, Ser Gerand al Monteville and Ser Aloysius dy Relandrant." Daryan was the ever graceful leader, the beautiful rose among the older weeds. He was so very, very charming and, as always, immaculate. "Please, welcome them as you welcome me." 

There was a smattering of polite applause, but for the most part, the nobility of Anselme stared. They were suspicious of these new comers who spoke too much, saying more than needed to be said. Suddenly, Arielle stepped up, acting as the Marquise de Roibe, the foreign ambassador of Anselme. She was no longer the excitable girl that I knew and loved, who had just married; no, she was a woman grown who knew how to handle charming young men looking to sweep a city-state off its feet. "Prince Daryan val Tännon, welcome to our city. We welcome also your traveling companions. Please, avail yourself of our hospitality for as long as need be, but remember, you are our guests. Again, welcome." Solemn and utterly lovely, she stepped down and returned to her place beside her husband. 

"Thank you, Marquise de Roibe. We are honored to be your guests." Daryan bowed to her, and then to the rest of us. With that, a flurry of activity began as the traveling party began to settle in. Thomhas was just ushering me away when we heard Dayran's voice arching above the crowd. "Thomhas! Come here, my man!" 

Reluctantly, Thom turned, and I clung to him. "Thom, don't. Can't you just ignore him?"

"Be reasonable," he retorted. "You're a grown woman, Kelryian." Though his words were harsh, he stopped to kiss me once, an infinitely reassuring gesture. "Daryan!" He turned to greet his prince.

"Thomhas! So good to see you! And who is that lovely woman I saw you standing with?" Daryan hugged his friend tightly; apparently, Thomhas' sudden departure for Anselme was forgiven. "Did you get married?"

"Daryan, let me introduce you to my wife." God I loved how the word wife sounded in his mouth when it was true! "Sera Kelryian dy Cattalo." I turned my head upwards to look at Thom, just for one last boost of confidence. 

"Hello, Prince Daryan val Tännon." I curtseyed low before him. "It's a pleasure to see you again. 

Daryan, however, did not look pleased to see me at all. "Thomhas. What are you doing with _her_?" He turned on Thomhas, angrier than I had ever seen anyone before. "I thought you were here on a matter of diplomacy, not to elope with my mistress." 

I physically recoiled when he said mistress. It was a blow that stung, to be sure. I suppose some part of me had still held on to the times when Daryan had said 'I love you', wishing that maybe, just maybe, they were still true. Now, obviously, they had never been true. 

"Daryan, please, this is my wife you are talking about." Thom drew his arm close about my shoulders. "Refrain from insulting her." 

The man I used to love took a long, deep breath. "Of course." He composed himself quickly. "I am terribly sorry for bringing up past events. It was out of place. Another time, 

another place. Farewell." He spun around on his heel and walked the other way quickly, calling to servants to attend to him immediately. 

Suddenly, I was shaking and almost in tears. Thom, ever the gentleman, sheltered me lovingly with his arms and escorted me to our waiting carriage. We would have to face them again later, but until then, we would take refuge with Mathieu. 

As we stepped into Mathieu's house, Thom pulled me to him and kissed me quickly. "I love you," His words were the balm to soothe my fears. "You will never be his, only mine." 

My lips must have curved upwards invitingly because my husband bent down to kiss them before I could say anything. "Thom, darling…" I grinned at him, my spirits restored. "I love you as well." And that was all that needed to be said until the evening. The rest of the time, we spoke without words. 

"Thom, how do I look?" I turned in front of the mirror, trying to see myself from every angle. "Does this green look appropriate?" I picked at the heavy satin, still unsure whether or not I liked it. The bodice fit tight around my torso and the beading on it shimmered every time I took a breath. 

"Sweetheart, you look lovely." Thom kissed the creamy skin of my throat, making me shiver with pleasure. "I don't think there will be a prettier woman there." He smiled at our reflection. "I think we look quite nice tonight." He was right, as usual. We always made a stunning match; with his dark features and my light ones, we were a study in contrast. He kissed me one more time before announcing that it was time to go. 

"Thom…" I caught his arm just as he reached the door. "I don't want to go." I was all child again, scared of my first big social engagement. I didn't want to have to deal with all the people and how I would most certainly make some grievous social faux-pas. "Can we stay here?"

Thom smiled indulgently. "No, Kelry. We're going. Don't be absurd." 

I inhaled deeply. "You're right. I will not be absurd." Opening my eyes, I forced a bright expression on my face and prepared myself for a night in what would surely be hell. 

**Author's Note**: Oh, finally a chapter! Hurrah! I apologize for the ungodly amounts of time it takes me to write these things, but I just don't have the time when I'm in school. Thankfully, I've spring break right now and I managed a quick chapter before flying out to sunny California to see that boy of mine. Hopefully, I'll get another one or two done on the plane, especially now that I've a laptop that actually works and won't crash after five minutes of use. Hurrah! 

So anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! In the next one, if should get quite interesting. Who wants to see a major, public confrontation? I do! 

And please, as always, remember that your feedback is greatly appreciated! I'll do my best to respond to every review, but if I miss you, please forgive me! 

3


	32. MidLife Crisis

**Chapter Thirty-Something:** A Mid-Life Crisis

"Darling!" Arielle swooped down on me as soon as she saw me. "Kelryian," She hissed, "What is going on here?"

Eyes wide, feigning innocent of an unknown deed, I queried, "What?"

"These countrymen of yours," she muttered. "They're saying some of the most despicable things."

"They are no countrymen of mine." I quickly located the Tännon delegation. "Really. What have they been saying?"

"Just…well, I'll tell you later. Or you'll find out soon enough." Jasper had caught her eye and was motioning her over. As the official hostess of this gala of state, Arielle had no time for idle talk. She had to be everywhere at once, it seemed. "Go greet the delegation, Kelry, please. I don't have time to introduce you."

I smiled thinly. "It's fine. We've all met."

Arielle tossed a worried glance over her shoulder before threading her way through the crowd until she got to Jasper. Thom took my arm and escorted me to where Daryan and his companions were ensconced, wrapped tightly in all the finest things of Anselme. "Presenting Ser and Sera dy Cattalo." The valet announced us in a clipped voice.

"Thomhas!" Asher dy Cattalo greeted his nephew warmly, giving him a hearty slap on the back before turning to me. "And your lovely wife, who shares our fine name." Among the finest products of Anselme was the wine; the reds were earthy and the whites wonderfully dry, both of which were exceptionally alcoholic for wine, and obviously, Asher dy Cattalo had been partaking liberally.

"This is my wife, Kelryian." Thom's uncle kissed me squarely on the cheek and gave me a quick hug. "Welcome to the family, girl!" He grinned tipsily at my husband. "You should have invited us to the wedding! Why didn't you, my boy?"

"He didn't invite you because there was no wedding." Daryan's lazy drawl cut through anything Thom was about to say. "They certainly weren't married when they left Tännon and no one in Anselme heard of a wedding here."

"Prince Daryan." Thom bowed low as I curtseyed. "It is true; we weren't married when we left Tännon, but we are certainly man and wife now."

"Perhaps, then you were just ashamed of her." The cruel prince of Tännon knew where to make every verbal cut.

"Why should I be ashamed of her?" Thom was an absolute saint. I offered up a prayer to the Madonna there and then that should I escape from the scrutiny of my father and former lover quickly, I would go to church thrice a day and love no one but Thom for the rest of my life. I wouldn't even look at other men; Thom was the only one for me.

"Yes, indeed, why should he be ashamed of such a fine looking woman?" Asher dy Cattalo pulled me to him. "You, my dear, are surely the fairest thing in this room."

"Uncle, please, let my wife be. She's in a rather fragile condition."

Oh yes, I added to the Madonna and her Holy Child, if I got out of this situation unharmed, I would dedicate our first child to her, boy or girl. My hand slipped to my stomach, feigning concern for a nonexistent child.

"Of course! Of course!" Asher dy Cattalo was such a genial fellow when intoxicated. He smiled happily. "Fatherhood at last, for you!" Thomhas neither confirmed nor denied this.

This time, it was my father who interjected rudely. "He should be ashamed of his _wife_," And my father practically spat the word, "Because she is nothing more than a common whore, a harlot who sells her body to the highest bidder."

Tears burned in my eyes. I had forgotten just how brutal my father could be. "Ser dy Relandrant," I began shakily. "Do not think to speak of me so; it was not I, but you who thought to sell me to the highest bidder to gain the greatest profit for your own ends." Anger swelled within me, giving me false confidence. "I am not what you bred me to be."

"Really?" Daryan swept into the conversation again, even deigning to stand before me, sneering. "You are exactly what he bred you to be except for one small difference." His fingertips rested underneath my chin, tilting it upwards. "You did not turn any profit for him."

I hit him. Thomhas was about to, but I was closer. It was juvenile, but nevertheless, I hit him as hard as I could. "Daryan val Tännon, you are nothing yourself. You will return no profit for your parents because you are worthless. You cannot run a country. I pity the day that your father dies, for the sake of all of Tännon."

"Kelry." Thom caught my arms tightly and pinned them behind my back. "Don't move." His hands slipped to my wrists and he held them loosely, letting his thumbs sweep over my palms. "Or if you do, I will have to take you home."

"Would you? I don't think she's really fit for public company." My father glared at me. "Didn't I raise you better than this?"

And just like that, we were back to all out warfare. "Don't say you raised me," I spat, managing to keep my voice relatively level and low, "You wanted nothing to do with me, remember? You ignored me and were ready to abandon me."

"I at least taught you respect of your betters."

He had walked right into. "I do respect my betters, Ser dy Relandrant, but they must of course be better than I in actuality and not in claim alone." I felt Thom's warning hand on my shoulder and took a step backwards. "If any of you dare profane my name any further while you are a guest in this country, Anselme will reject any further relations with you."

Daryan sauntered forward and slapped a hand on my shoulder. "And who are you to say this, Kelryian, darling? I don't think you have any say in that." He took a step closer as I took a step back, pressing my back into Thom's chest. "Kelryian dy Relandrant, you are a useless woman, good for nothing more than spreading your legs on satin sheets." He was close enough that I could smell the wine on his breath and from the amount he had drunk, I could almost tell what exactly it was. "In fact, my darling little mistress, perhaps you and I should have a liaison later, after our mutual friend Thomhas here has gone to sleep." He made a move to draw me towards him, but Thom interposed himself quickly.

"Daryan, I have given you one warning already." I blessed Thom for his ability to keep the coolest of voices even when he was ready to kill. "You were once my Prince and my best friend, but I will not stand for this."

Daryan scoffed, but stepped back cautiously. "For the sake of what we once had," he sneered. "But this is the last time I will think of you as a friend to me or to Tännon."

"As it should be," Thom said, finally letting some of his spite seep through the carefully constructed outer façade. His arms came around me then, warm and loving and so very, very safe. Within those arms, I could pretend that all of Anselme was not staring at us, I could make believe that no one had seen that debacle that had just gone down between the delegation and the expatriates. I could pretend a lot of things, and so I did, closing my eyes and clinging to my husband's arms for dear life.

Other than that incident, the evening went smoothly; the ceremonies ran at perfect length, the music was neither too loud nor too soft and everyone, save for a select few, were having a good time. Anselme was blessed in its distinct ability to forget social faux pas moments after they happened.

I, of course, had no such ability, and so spent the majority of my evening alternately feeling sorry for myself and being very, very angry at my former countrymen. All in all, it was not a pleasant night.

The next morning, wrapped in sheets and Thom's arms, I was still angry. The social slights of the night previous and the personal insults were still burrowed deep within my heart, making me ache with sorrow.

I wondered why it couldn't be like it was in all the simple stories that I had been told as a child. A man would come in, sweep me off my feet, we'd be in love, it'd be great. But instead, it had to be complicated. Those who I thought had a certain role in my life didn't after all and they complicated matters endlessly. Daryan, in particular, was guilty of this. Although I thought I had loved him once, and perhaps I had, for who knows the true nature of love, I certainly did not love him anymore. In fact, I was quite angry with him and wished that I never had to see him ever again.

Unfortunately, this was not to be. Thom rubbed my shoulder, shaking me awake. "Darling, we've got to get up."

"No." Sullen, angry and scared, I curled closer around myself. "I don't want to."

"Kelryian, you're being ridiculous." Thom's warm hands snaked over my shoulder, massaging the pliant muscle there with cajoling fingertips. "Come on, sweetheart, we've got to put in an appearance."

"No." I shrugged his hand away in annoyance. "I don't think it would be a good idea for me to be present," I told him diplomatically. "You saw the debacle that ensued the last time we were together."

"I did." Thom thought for a moment, his breath dancing across my naked back at regular intervals. "This time, however, you will both be sober and better able to keep yourselves in line. Yes?"

I sighed, a long, heavy sound that drew itself up from the bottom of my toes. "Thomhas dy Cattalo, do you not understand? I do not want to see Daryan, my father or Gerand al Monteville. I had hoped to never see them again, actually. I don't want to see them now; all three of them have tried to ruin my life on several occasions. We are not friends and in fact, I might go so far as to say that we are enemies. With this in mind, think of my situation and tell me, would you go?" Tears burned at the edge of my vision, turning it sour and off.

"Kelry, Kelry, Kelry…" Thom sighed my name into my shoulder blades, his lips just barely brushing my skin. "Don't think me unsympathetic, but you must go. If you don't, it will be considered a diplomatic slight to your former countrymen and the whole affair that's happening here will be in even more trouble than it is."

"I think there will be more trouble if I go than if I don't," I grumbled, still pouting, but I let Thom slip an arm around my waist and draw me to him. "Why are they here, anyway?"

"They're trying to negotiate trading rights and Tännon is trying to achieve an alliance with Anselme." Thom sighed tiredly. "Daryan doesn't understand that Anselme has a long history of neutrality and probably intends on keeping that tradition alive."

"I take it you've tried to tell him this?"

"Along with all of his advisors, yes." Thom kissed the back of my neck tenderly. "He tends not to listen to us, though. It's a bad habit of his." His lips made a circle on the back of my neck, sweet and soft and absolutely comforting. "But darling," The hairs on the back of my neck shivered under his touch, "We have to get up, we have to go and show them that 

Anselme and Tännon can be friends without being allies. We are the neutral party here as we belong to both sides, in a way."

Pulling the sheet up to my chin, I drew my knees towards my chin. "I just don't know, Thom. I'm not exactly a neutral party, if you haven't noticed."

"Fine, we're that which links these two parties, then. Is that a satisfactory description?" My husband threw his side of the sheet over me and sat up, leaning over me so that he could see my face. "Sweetheart, please?" He kissed my cheek lovingly. "For me?"

I sighed. "For you? Do you promise that we won't have to stay long?" When he nodded, I sighed and sat up just enough to kiss him full on the mouth. "Fine. I'll go. What do I have to wear?"

"It's day formal, according to Jasper." The bed shook as Thom heaved himself off of it. "I'll dress to match you."

A muffled groan escaped my lips. "I haven't even gotten up yet, Thomhas."

"Well, get up and tell me what you're wearing so I can dress to match." His hands traced paths along my spine. "Up, lazy girl, up!"

"Fine!" Elegantly disheveled, I entered the waking world and chose an outfit for what was surely going to be the worst day of my life. I picked a dour shade of blue to match my mood and ignored Thom's disapproving look at the very un-summery color.

At last, we were ready—a matched pair to prance around before an audience and be judged on how well we behaved, how pretty we looked, and how well we followed the leads given to us. I never had liked horses much, I realized then. This certainly wasn't going to help.

**Author's Note:** I'm really sorry this took so long; my life just got upended rather abruptly. I'm back on top of things, however, so hopefully I'll be able to write more. This school year is coming to a close (yay! No more atomic theory!) but I will also be working fulltime this summer (Ew). I'll do my best, and hopefully Stuff will get Written. Yes? Yes.

Anyway, tell me what you think. If you spot any continuity errors, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know. Thanks bunches!

3


	33. Uh Oh Oreos, Part Two

**Chapter Thirty-Three**: Uh Oh Oreos (Part 2)

The hours dragged their heavy feet past me, even seeming to slide backwards every so often. We were seated in between the two parties; Anselme was on my right while Tännon was on my left. Fortunately, Thom had been strategically placed next to the Tännon party while I was next to Arielle. My fingers twined together anxiously as I studiously avoided looking at my former countrymen.

"We want to propose an alliance with Anselme," Daryan was saying, his lips splayed in a smile. "And not just a trading alliance, my friends! Oh, no, what Tännon would like to propose in an alliance of two powers, a partnership that could withstand the threats of our surrounding neighbors. Recently, Melos and Thyrea have entered into an agreement with each other and I think it fitting that we two great powers should do the same. It seems only right that we do so, my comrades." Daryan val Tännon leaned forward, drawing my new compatriots into his speech. "You know that these two countries have long been military powers and together, they will be a formidable force indeed. I, for one, should hate to have to face them alone, and I have an entire country at my disposal. But you, Anselme, you have nothing of the sort!

"Dear friends, it seems only logical that we two join in an alliance, for I would hate to see this beautiful city fall to ruins. It would break my heart to see the spires of Anselme crumble and fall; I would dearly mourn the loss of such elegance. But it would surely come to this, should Thyrea and Melos follow through with the threats they have been proposing softly, now for some weeks." Daryan's smile widened as he knew he held his audience.

"My comrades in arms, my friends and companions, would it not be perfectly reasonable to become allies for safety's sake? You, with your ships and merchants flung far abroad could easily take the sea, so accustomed to it as you are. We of Tännon would easily dominate the land, if only we had not to worry about the oceans that hem you in. What objections could you have to an alliance that centers on defense alone? What sense would it make to reject this opportunity to be prepared for a future that will surely come and try to bring the both of us to our knees?"

I could feel the breath in my lungs catching with every word. He looked so passionate now, so wondrous and beautiful that I remembered why I had fallen so deeply in love with him. With this passion about him, this all encompassing focus, I could feel my stomach heaving and I felt as if I was going to be sick just from the sight and desire of him. Instinctively, I reached for Thom's hand, hoping that he would be able to purge my mind of these thoughts.

My action did not go unnoticed by Daryan; he turned to me and smiled that seductive, enticing smile and I felt as if I could feel those lips on my skin all over again. "See here, Anselme, see how we are already collaborating?" He gestured to me, his eyes locked with mine, matching breath for breath and heartbeat for heartbeat. "With Ser and Sera dy Cattalo, you have already begun the process of integration. By harboring them and giving them safe passage and friendship, you have already signaled your willingness to such a friendship between our two countries. Why not continue this and protect yourselves and your loved ones? We shall be friends, Anselme and Tännon." His lips parted as if to speak, but he seemed to decide against it. I watched, fascinated by him once more.

"Daryan val Tännon," Arielle began, her voice flat and unmoved. Meticulously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she began to speak in the same tone, her steady gaze full of determination and clarity. "Long has Anselme been a city-state, independent of all aid from our neighboring countries. We have long remained neutral in the wars that have ravaged this land over time, for we have no standing army. We have been left alone, ignored because we are merely artisans, musicians and of no strategic importance but for the merchants on the sea, as you mentioned. Our merchants operate under a guarantee of safety, so long as we take no side. This is our history, this is our tradition and we intend not to break it. Without the promise of safe passage, we will no longer be able to supply this land with the exotic goods that you favor so highly. While you think to make us military, we will remain what we are and will ever be: neutral. We will not discriminate with our trade routes and we will refuse to join with you in some military venture that as yet has no validity.

"Daryan val Tännon, we are honored, truly we are, by your request for this alliance, but we cannot in good conscience grant this to you." My dear friend allowed a small, brief smile to pass her lips. "We will still discuss the matter of trading rights, however, but on the position of a military alliance, we remain firm." She smiled prettily, then, the absolute picture of sincerity and friendship. "Shall we, then?"

"Shall we what?" Daryan, his eyes narrowed with outrage at being denied, leaned forward, resting his palms heavily on the table, raising himself above her level. "Shall we discuss nothing? For trading rights seem rather paltry in comparison with the threat we both face, and you perhaps more than I, or so it would seem."

"We are in no significant danger, Prince Daryan." Arielle, cool and collected as she always was when enacting her duties, frowned delicately. "Custom is king and it will surely save us once more."

"It will not!" Daryan slammed his hands on the table, making the heavy oaken contraption shake violently. "It will not save you, not with the threat we are both against, or does an appeal for the safety of your country not reach you? Are you deaf, are you _absolutely_ blind to the outside world?" He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end, a brushfire of brunette. "Do you not think to place informants in the courts of others so that you know when other rulers are threatening to invade and destroy your city because it is inconveniently placed for their campaigns?"

"Daryan," Gerand al Monteville murmured softly, touching the prince's sleeve warningly. "Easy."

Daryan cut him off with a wave. "I'm only doing this for the good of Anselme, you know. I'm doing this so that you might be saved from a combined threat."

It was Arielle's turn to interrupt. "Prince Daryan, pardon me, but where precisely are you receiving this information? I know you mentioned informants, but do you know if you can really trust them? And for that matter, can I trust you? Presently, my impression of you personally has not been entirely favorable and it seems to me that you tend to do things more in your own interest and less in the interest of others. This makes me inclined to question your motive here, for it seems that it cannot be entirely selfless." With this blatant insult on the table, a hush dropped quickly over all of us.

"If I may say something," Thom ventured softly, "Perhaps we should adjourn for a meal and then return to our discussion when we have settled a bit. Perhaps, with food in our stomachs and without any hunger pangs, we will be far more inclined 

to be civil to one another." Gently, ever gently, Thom stood and helped me to my feet as well. Arielle, too, rose and almost stalked out of the room. I knew from the way she was biting her lip that she was not pleased with herself and so I rushed after her, leaving Thom and Jasper to dally behind and entertain the Tännon delegation.

"Arielle," I called after her quietly, hoping to get her attention without too much fuss. "Hey, Arielle, will you wait for a moment?"

"Kelryian! I have completely messed this whole thing up. What will I do?" Arielle's eyes were glassy with tears. "I've gone about it all wrong and now Daryan is angry and I don't know what to do to fix it! I absolutely can't give in to this alliance. I know that Thyrea and Melos are not in any sort of alliance; both of them have approached me about Anselme's neutrality multiple times, assuring me that in a time of war, they will protect Anselme so long as we do not side with anyone." She sighed heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly with suppressed sobs.

"Don't worry, dearheart," I crooned, trying to reassure her. "I thought you did wonderfully there. You didn't yell at him as he yelled at you." With my arms around her shoulders, I could feel her shaking; she was terrified of Daryan, and with good reason. He was quite intimidating when he was angry. "Here, I'll go get you a glass of water, alright? I'll meet you back here, yes?"

"Yes. Well, actually…" She trailed off, looking mournful. "I think I'll find Jasper and sit with him for a bit, but please, can you get me a glass of water? We'll be here."

I nodded my acquiescence and walked towards the room where the luncheon was being served. Quickly, I spotted Jasper and told him where his wife was; he hurried off without a question. It was equally simple to obtain a glass of water and within moments, I was on my way back to Arielle.

"Kelryian."

I whipped around, almost spilling the water. "What do you want?"

Daryan smiled at me sadly. "I wanted to apologize, no need to get defensive." He took a step towards me and I flinched, but didn't move away. "Really, Kelry, I'm sorry. The things I said last night were completely inappropriate. Please, accept my apology."

I could feel the tension drop out of my shoulders and I sighed. "Of course. I'm sorry as well. I should not have acted the way I did." I offered the best smile I could manage, which was forced at best.

"Kelryian…" He reached a hand up to touch my cheek and I became afraid once more, my entire body tightening and readying for flight. "Why did you leave me?"

I glared at him. "Don't touch me. You may have apologized, but don't touch me." Looking contrite, he dropped his hand. "And I believe it was you who left me."

Daryan shrugged. "Either way, why did it end? What we had was so…pure." His smile was absolutely charming and utterly disarming. "Really, Kelry, I miss you. The things I said…I'm jealous, darling. My best friend has the only girl I've ever loved…" He took a step closer. "Please, come back to me." Suddenly, he was too close, his grey eyes deep and soulful as they looked into me. "Please, Kelry."

"Daryan, I'm married." I pressed against the wall, trying to distance myself from him. Perhaps, if I was farther away, his siren call would not affect me, luring me closer to what we had been, to something that wasn't possible. "This cannot—" I was silenced as his fingertips touched my lips.

"You're not married, we both know that. Just…stop pretending, Kelryian." His smile had an edge to it and he took another step closer. "We both know that you're mine first and his second. Why did you give me up, Kelryian? Why?" His hands were on my shoulders, pinning me back against the wall. "Tell me, you rotten bitch. I want to know why you left me for him." His thumb caressed my neck roughly and I nearly burst into tears.

"Daryan, let me go." My voice began to climb with panic. "I am married, I am not yours, and I did not leave you. I would have stayed with you, but you were gone." I took one long, shuddering breath. "You cannot do this, Daryan. Do not." I pled with him, wishing desperately that he would move away and too afraid to do anything else.

"You will come back with me to Tännon, Kelryian." His fingertips dug under my collarbones, making me shudder with pain. "You and Thom both. We can pretend that you are married, or we can marry you legally to Gerand, but either way, you are coming back with _me_."

"No." A word, a single word of rejection and I felt more powerful than ever before, but only for a moment. A single word, a single moment was all I got.

His mouth pressed against mine roughly, biting my lip and I tasted blood in my mouth. My hands beat ineffectually at him, trying desperately to shove him off of me. I had no luck, however, and he was far too strong for me to merely brush him off. "Kelryian, may your life be hell," He snarled at me, pulling away of his own volition as I trembled in fear.

As he stalked off, I suddenly understood why. Ser Asher dy Cattalo stood, looking at me, taking in my disheveled appearance, my lips still swollen with forced kisses. I looked a mess, looked an unfaithful wife. "Don't—Please…." I reached out a hand to him before he shook his head and stalked off. Unhappily, I began to cry.

**Author's Note**: Another chapter, and in a timely fashion! I must admit, I'm always rather surprised when these things get done as quickly as they do. I hope this chapter isn't too awful…for those of you who were looking for a bigger confrontation, well, there it is!

As always, I would greatly appreciate your comments! Thank you and hopefully, I will see you again soon!


	34. White Russians and Sunsets

**Chapter Thirty-Four**: White Russians and Sunsets

I slept alone, the blankets pulled tight around me, keeping me safe. Thom hadn't returned from the diplomatic function that I had hurriedly excused myself from. It may have been in bad taste to so hastily depart, but I was sure that I couldn't face Daryan again. I simply wasn't strong enough to deal with him. And so the night found me alone, tears wet upon my cheeks, in a bed that was too large for one person alone. Once, I woke to the sound of someone undressing, but there was no movement of the bed to tell me that Thom slept with me. It seemed that I was to be alone with my dreams the whole night.

When dawn brushed her rosy fingertips across my eyes, I forgot momentarily the events of the previous day. Languidly, I stretched, reaching my arms over my head and arching my back, careful to avoid Thom…only to realize that he wasn't there. I curled in on myself, drawing my knees to my chest and burying my face in them, my entire body shaking with sobs. It was entirely foreign to be without the man I loved, even though he had only slept curled around me for such a short time.

Soon, I composed myself enough that I could slip out of the bed, my motions slow and painful. I found bruises where Daryan's fingers had dug into my skin and my lips still throbbed where he had drawn blood. I glanced at myself in the mirror, my eyes shadowed with exhaustion and my mouth turned down with unhappiness. In the reflection behind me, I saw Thom, uncomfortably arranged in the loveseat, looking just as unhappy as I, even in sleep.

I turned and walked to him, letting my fingers hover above his forehead, not daring to touch but wanting to so badly. "Thom," I whispered, letting his name upon my lips suffice for the touch I longed for. "Please, you know that I love you." My knees sank into the plush carpet as I slowly let myself down next to him. I drowsed, my head resting on the chair that he slept upon, telling myself that this was good enough for now, that I would not be closer for a while and that this was enough.

But it wasn't. I dreamed of him taking me into his arms, of whispering words so sweet to me. I yearned for the feel of his strong hands clasping mine ever so gently, careful of my delicate frame and assuring me that nothing could go wrong. I wished ever so deeply to feel his bare back pressed against me, skin touching skin, sticky in the summer heat. If only, I thought, if only I could feel his hands catch mine in the morning as we were both waking together, then I would know that everything would be fine.

I woke up with tears drying on my cheeks in the bed that was too big for one person. Again, I was alone, and Thom was nowhere to be seen. I began to wonder if I really should spend the whole day in bed. Relatively quickly, I eschewed that idea in favor of the more painful and less desirable getting out of bed and facing the world. Carefully, I pulled on each piece of the day dress, layer after layer of soft, sheer fabric whispering unintelligible words across my skin. I touched my fingers to my lips, wondering how to hide the bruises blossoming there.

Sighing, giving up on appearances and only just dressed, I wandered to the first floor of the house, looking for any sign of life. Finding nothing, I was about to give up on this torturous day when I saw the note.

_Kelyrian_, it read in Thom's neat script_, we are to make an appearance today in court. I will tell them you were not feeling well. When I return, which should be early afternoon, I expect you to be waiting for me in the garden._ I glanced at the clock and saw the appointed time was drawing near, or so I hoped. _We have some matters to discuss,_ signed, _Thom_. I sniffled pathetically, retrieved a book from our suite, and went to wait outside in the warm sunshine of the afternoon.

"Kelryian?" Thom's voice was rough and hoarse. "Where are you?"

I briefly debated whether or not to answer him, then called out to him. Soon, I saw him through the leaves that screened the spot where I had been hiding. I had found the secluded spot beneath the bows of a weeping cherry tree that had been sculpted as overambitious gardeners are wont to do. I was comfortable sitting on the lush grass, a book spread across my lap.

"Kelryian…" Thom looked at a loss for words. His mouth worked as a fish's would, gaping and gaping but never making any noise.

"Yes?" I was calm for the moment, the shaking of my hands disguised by the book I held. "You said we had matters to discuss?"

He sighed. "May I sit?" I nodded as he did, not next to me but across. "Explain."

It was my turn to play the fish. Finally, I gathered myself. "What? I'm sorry, I thought this was a discussion." I could feel the tears threatening to explode like a geyser, kept back only by some great force that I couldn't fathom. I hiccupped slightly, the only sign I gave of the impending flood. "I—I…" And then it happened. Tears came with reckless abandon as my shoulders shook with uncontrollable sobs.

"Darling, Kelry, sweetheart…" Thom was by my side in an instant, his arms around my shoulders. "Oh, love, don't cry. Darling, I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry." His fingertips massaged loving circles into my shoulders and back, soothing away the tears.

"I didn't, I didn't," I managed to say. "It wasn't me." I choked out the words, hiccupping on sobs between each syllable.

"Hush, I know." He rocked me back and forth in his arms, his loving embrace so very, very welcome. "Darling, let me explain." I sniffled, trying not to get snot on his shirt and failing, but I nodded slightly. "Asher…he told me he saw you….he saw you with Daryan. I'm not sure what to think of that, sweetheart, but I didn't know." His voice cracked. "You didn't, did you?"

Hiccupping all the while and gasping for air, I shuddered and told him as best I could what had happened. "He told me he was sorry and that he loved me. Then he told me that we weren't married—but we are! We are!" My voice shook with remembered terror, afraid of the thought that Thom and I weren't legally married. "And…he said that I was his and that he would take me back to Tännon with him. I don't want to go back, Thom, I can't." I buried my face in his chest, yet shaking with the fear that coursed through my veins both then and now. "I can't lose you."

"You won't, oh you won't." Thom drew me closer still, giving me the security that I craved, the love that I wanted from him. "Darling, we are together. You are mine as I am yours and that is the only way it will ever be."

And so, it seemed simple enough. Together we were, together we would be.

Later, after we had left our clothes tangled on the ground and we both had grass stains all over our skin and I had lost my place in the book that I hadn't been able to read anyway, we stretched out on the grass, naked together, the places we touched sticking together.

"Darling," Thom murmured, his voice thrumming low and pleasant in his chest where my head rested. "I love you."

"And I you, I whispered, sending cooling breaths across his stomach. Both of us spoke true as the sun set around us, evening sinking into night, with the world on fire all around us, burning with the passion of our love.

Note: Per usual, I'm sorry for the delay, but my education has quite a claim on my time. School keeps me ridiculously busy, as does working to pay for school, so writing kind of gets lost by the wayside sometimes. And I am sorry about that. I miss writing a lot.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Chapter 35 should be up shortly after Thanksgiving. If it isn't, remind me and I'll get it as soon as I possibly can! So enjoy this chapter, happy holidays and all that jazz!


	35. Sea Salt and Vinegar

**Chapter Thirty-Five**: Sea Salt and Vinegar

The damage, however, had been done. Later in the evening, he was cold to me, not returning my smiles as we dallied among the courtiers. Sometimes, he remembered to keep up appearances and would place an arm around my waist, but for the most part, I was isolated.

Arielle worried, as she was wont to do, placing concerned fingertips on my arm, but I smiled sweetly and brushed her off, not wanting to discuss it. Still worried but allowing me some space, she went to entertain her guests, the foreigners that I detested so much. In the end, I was alone and though it made me miserable, I suspected I wanted a little misery. Sometimes, it was comforting to sulk.

Daryan, of course, was his usual charming self. He was persistent in capturing my attention. He brought me champagne, bubbling in the delicate flutes. I couldn't politely refuse and so was forced to socialize with him, which only furthered the rumors that were blossoming around the room. I never could catch Thom's eye to see what he thought, but that in itself was disapproval. The prince I had once devoted myself to, given my entire being to, slipped his arm through mine, chatting amiably about nothing. His fingers griped my bare are tightly and I knew there would be fingerprints.

"Have you forgotten what I told you?"

"No." I was now a master at being politely sullen.

"Good." He tried to draw me closer, but I resisted, trying to untangle my arm from his hold at the same time. No one seemed to notice my discomfort; all they saw was infidelity in public. I almost cried.

"Let me go." It was a firm command, and I fully hoped that he would heed the tone, if not me. "Now, Daryan." How I wished, desperately so, that Thom would come to my rescue. It didn't even have to be Thom, it just had to be someone who could extract me from Daryan's clutches.

"Kiss me, darling. Kiss me first."

I could have slapped him. Instead, I accidentally spilled my champagne all over him. "I'm terribly sorry!" I exclaimed, but I wasn't at all. Smiling indecorously, I made a swift exit, glad to have his hand off of mine so that the attraction that still lingered would leave me alone. The butterflies in my stomach settled and I did my best to forget the sensation. Sidling closer to Thom, I hoped he would forgive me. I pleaded with the heavens and for a brief moment, it seemed to work.

But then his fingers were clutching mine too tightly, so tight that it hurt and I had to bite my lip from crying out. For all the making up we had done, he was still suspicious of me. I resented him for it, but gaily carried on the conversation we were having with some aristocratic people that I certainly hadn't met before. Thom, however, seemed well acquainted with them.

I smiled prettily through the whole event, never far from Thom's side save for one moment when Arielle pulled me aside and demanded that we have tea the next day. I agreed out of habit, absently mindedly and not really looking forward to it. I didn't really want to discuss the problems I was having, after all, because they were so personal. Personal, in this case, being a convenient substitute for painful and confusing.

After we arrived home, I slipped off the silky green confection that has stifled me all night and turned to Thom, who was also disrobing. We didn't fall into each other's arms as I had hoped; no, that would have been too easy. Instead, I made him look at me. "You haven't forgiven me."

"No." It was as simple as that. I let my fingertips slide from his cheeks and, as they drifted past his shoulders and back to my sides, he turned from me. "You still love him."

"I do not." I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but I couldn't because it wouldn't make a difference. He'd made up his mind. "I love you." I tried anyway; it was my nature.

"Kelryian," he turned to me, his mouth hard and tight, "Don't lie to me. I know what I see. I know you." His hands clamped on my shoulders, steadying me, dizzy as I was from the champagne that fluttered through my bloodstream. "I am not your first choice, am I?"

"But you knew that when you married me," I said bitterly. "You knew what happened. But you said you loved me anyway." My vision glittered like the champagne had, glowing inside my stomach so. "You don't, though, do you?"

"Don't turn the tables on me, Kelry." I could tell, though, he was flustered. "I knew and I took you in anyway, yes. I even told you I loved you—and I meant it." His words were too intense for me to keep looking at him and so I looked down and away, hoping he wouldn't take it as lying.

"As did I." My own words were soft, breathy. Without form, without substance, they had no merit to him. And so that was it. Once more, he took the couch and I took the bed, each sleeping and dreaming separately. It was the worst night of my life.

The next day, I woke before Thom and dressed carefully, wanting to look presentable for my high tea with Arielle the next day. It was a blue frock, practical yet airy. It was summer weight and comfortable and it gave me such confidence. I arrived at Arielle's apartments not a minute late and she was waiting anxiously for me, white knuckled and frowning.

"Where have you been?" She was demanding, which was certainly unlike her.

I grinned. "I'm on time, darling." What a show I managed to put on! Ulga was right, I should have been an actress instead of one of the gentry. "Don't fret."

"You're in a snit," Arielle noticed almost right away. "You're going to do something stupid." Sometimes, she could be very insightful, other times, not so much.

"Not at all, Ari." I sighed, dropping the façade for a moment. "I'm going to be a dutiful wife. I'm going to love him no matter what it takes. Is that so bad?" Running my hands through my hair, I flopped down upon one of her overstuffed loveseats.

She thought for a moment, her beautiful face furrowed with concentration. "I suppose not. But last night—what was that?" Again, the demanding was so unlike her. She truly was worried for me.

"I couldn't get away from him." I almost cried. I could feel the tears with their chokehold around my neck already. "He wouldn't let me." If there was one person I could never lie to, I realized, it was Arielle. Thom would let me get away with it simply to protect the both of us, but my friend would never allow that.

"Ah." She paused again. "I still think you're going to do something stupid." She took my hand in hers. "Promise you'll tell me first?"

I did and, as the tea was brought out, I smiled softly at her. "I won't do anything yet, although I'm sure I will. I've certainly a record of doing so." I laughed softly at myself; I really was quite gifted at getting myself into messes through my own folly.

"Do, please. Someone has to know where you'll run off to." Delicate pink lips sipped hot tea, and she winced as her tongue was scorched. "So darling, tell me how things are."

And so I did. I told her everything, from the first fight to the wonderful, languorous pastoral make up, to the second fight and the lonely night I had spent. I told her everything I could think of, but especially of my love for Thom. It hadn't abated, not one bit. Arielle, of course, sympathized with me and held my hand, placing cookies at my disposal so that I sprayed fine showers of half-chewed crumbs across my lap every time I made a sibilant sound. Arielle bore all of this with her usual grace and dignity, ignoring my social faux pas, numerous as they were.

Finally, our tea came to an end as the teapot sat empty upon the table and my stomach bulged with sweets. Arielle made mention of things, official state business, that she had to attend to, and so I left, opting to take a stroll around the city rather than return to the house.

In the city, I listened to the minstrel, perhaps the same one who had made me cry on one of my first days here. I didn't care. This time he was singing battle ballads about brave knights and fair maidens and how they fell in love. I wondered what had brought a tale of such romanticism on, but didn't give it much thought. I ordered yet more sweet delicacies to smother the unhappiness that grew in the pit of my stomach.

"Sweetheart, my lovely," The minstrel crooned to me. "Willst thou be my fairest maid?" His green eyes sparkled with merriment, "For I am a soldier, in a grave to be laid." Raucous guffaws burst around me and I couldn't help but laugh as well. He was quite amusing when he wasn't making fun at my direct expense. He produced a flower from behind his ear, presenting it to me with much flourish. "Remember me," he begged softly, "for I am truly to go to war, if that which I heard is correct. Sera, do you know anything about it?"

Nonplussed, I shook my head gently. "I have heard naught but the threat of war. When did it materialize so fully?" The other patrons were thankful for the respite from his music, it seemed, for they had turned back to their cups and plates, shoveling food into their mouths hungrily.

"We've heard the armies coming," he told me, whispering softly. "We the musicians, we talk amongst ourselves. Their bards are coming, I know. Some are here already. Sera, if you know anything."

"I do not." I didn't mean to be curt, but it happened anyway. "I was required to leave the diplomatic enterprises early due to personal problems," I apologized, trying to assuage the abruptness of my answer.

"Ah. Keep it in mind, Sera, but I heard the prince of Tännon has his hand in it." And with those final words, he was done with me and returned to playing for his audience.

And thus, by the combination of Arielle and this minstrel, a plan was hatched. It was terribly formed and incredibly rash, but it sounded like a good idea. Cautiously, I chided myself. The last several times that I had thought something to be a good idea, it had turned out to be rather awful indeed. So I promised myself I'd wait. I would think about it, think over it and then, in a week's time, if it still seemed like something that was sensible, I would act on it, but not a moment before.

A small smile curled my lips. I figured I was about to do something stupid, but I thought that I might as well make it count for something. Oh, what a bad idea this would turn out to be.

I loved it.

Two weeks passed slowly, tortuously, agonizingly. Thom chose a new room to sleep in and I was left alone for those two weeks. We were cautious around each other, each stepping gently around the other. What were we to do? Neither of us was good at making the first move towards apology. And so, we sidestepped and danced around one another for two weeks. I saw only Arielle, for the most part, as I avoided the social events surrounding the Tännon delegation's presence on the grounds that I was ill.

It wasn't a lie, exactly. I was sick almost every day from the stress and excitement of it all. I could barely keep any food down and simply gave up eating breakfast altogether. Despite this, I grew surer of myself every day, my complexion brightening with confidence and joy. I was happy, or at least as happy as I could be.

In the middle of the second week, the news came. There really was a war upon us, as the minstrel had stated. The armies that Daryan had threatened were on the move, setting the countryside to thundering with their every step. Reports came in that the countryside was black with their soldiers, crawling with them like ants. In this, I rejoiced, although I would tell no one why.

Finally, the day came. I went to Arielle to tell her what I planned. Declining the carriage that was ordered for me, I took my palfrey instead. I greeted Arielle with a kiss on the cheek, buoyant with excitement.

"You're looking quite well today," she admired wryly. Poor Arielle, or perhaps lucky, I know not which, had recently discovered the wonders of pregnancy. Wan and worn, she was sick beyond belief thanks to the child she carried. Jasper, of course, was thrilled, but Arielle was not yet so enthusiastic.

"I am indeed."

"You're up to something."

"Yes." I grinned, bitterly happy. "I am."

She grinned thinly. "I knew it. I won't tell anyone until two days from now."

"Thank you." I hugged her tightly to me. "I'm going to meet the armies. Thyrea and Melos are coming, yes?" Arielle nodded slightly. "I'm going to them."

She obviously thought I was crazy. "You are going to do something stupid. Something completely idiotic and foolhardy. Are you suicidal, Kelryian?"

"No." I smiled. "I'm desperate, but not suicidal. I have to do something."

"You could have an affair! Have a child! I don't know, anything but this. Go run away to the sea, take a leave of absence, something!" She was exasperated with me. "You don't have to run away."

"I do. I can't stay here. I'm going to go away and not come back and make a better life somewhere else. This impending war just gives me an excuse and gives Thom a reason as to my disappearance. Help him along with it if he doesn't get it, please." I smiled again. "I'm going to start all over. I'll write, though."

"Fine. But I'm telling him as soon as you leave." Arielle, now furious, glared at me, trying use threats to make me stay.

"I don't care what you do. I did promise that I would tell you, and so I have. Do what you think is right." I kissed her on the cheek once more and stood. "I love you, my friend, and I'll miss you."

"Don't go!" Tears glittered in her eyes. "I'll miss you, too. Who will help me when the baby's born?"

I smiled. "That's when Jasper gets to find out the joys of parenting." She laughed weakly at this, hiccupping a little on her tears. "But now, farewell my friend. Good luck."

"You're being incredibly selfish," she called after me as I left her sunk into one of her couches. She was right, I was. Still, I let myself out of her manse without more than one look back and clambered on the back of my steed. It may have been only a palfrey and no mighty warhorse, but the mare would certainly do to get me away from Anselme.

As I reached the city gates, I looked behind me one last time. No one followed, no one even noticed my departure. I was nondescript in a brown frock, the catskin cloak bound up behind me, sheltering the few things that I took with me. And so it was in the late afternoon that I set out for the paradise of forgetfulness and instead found the vast army that was waiting to pounce upon the fragile city state.

Or rather, they found me as I watered the mare several miles from the city and had a late lunch for myself. I was escorted quickly to the captain of the legionnaires who had found me. He was a young man, perhaps five years older than I, and jovial in appearance. "Well, well!" He exclaimed, he bright eyes twinkling merrily. "What have we here?"

"We found her."

"Surely; she didn't come here of her own accord, Jack. Ladies tend not to do such things. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Kelryian dy Cattalo." I almost smiled back, but stopped myself as it wouldn't be fitting.

"Of the dy Cattalos of Tännon?" He looked startled, a modicum of habitual respect falling into place. "I hadn't heard of any daughters."

"I married in." Perhaps I was being too frank, but subtlety wouldn't help me at this point. "Who are you?"

"Ah, my pardon." The young captain, one of the gentry without a doubt, smiled ruefully. "I forget my manners, being out here on the march. I'm Iulus d'Ellas." As I figured, gentry. The d'Ellases were distant cousins of the dy Relandrants by some marriage or another.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Iulus." I gave him my best smile. "I do believe we're cousins, in some way." I thought it best to reveal this fact, which would hopefully ensure my safety, should I encounter someone who was not as friendly as Iulus.

"But I am not related to the dy Cattalos…" He seemed quite puzzled for a second.

"But you are related to the dy Relandrants." I smiled. "My maiden name."

He paled suddenly. "You're Kelryian dy Relandrant?" Quickly regaining his composure, he tried to manage a smile. "I'd best take you to the general."

Worry began to blossom in my breast, and I began to think that perhaps I should not have told him my maiden name. "If you think best," I acquiesced politely. I, however, did not think it best, and the second thoughts piled upon my brain in an endless succession.

But it was too late now to take back all that was spoken and so, I followed Iulus d'Ellas to the general.

Author's Note: Here's the next installment of our tale! Hopefully, you enjoyed it. :) Per usual, feedback is always appreciated and taken into account. I hope everyone in the US had a nice holiday and that everyone else had a nice Thursday…

I have no idea when the next chapter will be finished, but my goal is before Christmas. We'll see how that goes!


	36. All's Fair

**Chapter Thirty-Six: All's Fair**

I awoke, a week later, still in custody of the General of Thyrea, one Ascanius y Pergama, who had at one time bounced me upon his knee, delighting in my infant giggles as he discussed trade with my father. Now, older, grayer and significantly less disposed toward me, he kept me sequestered in his tent night and day, while he spoke with the ambassadors that came daily from Anselme and Tännon. I was bait, I gathered, or at least a bargaining chip. He rarely bothered to speak to me directly, and so my scant knowledge as gathered from the tidbits I overheard from those who served me my meals. The servants, for Ascanius had brought his lifestyle along with him, were somewhat in awe of me, but for the most part, they, too, ignored me unless absolutely unavoidable. It was a lonely existence, to be sure, but a week wasn't too long to bear.

Two weeks later, I sat day after day, restless and bored, as my predicament did not change. It appeared that neither Tännon nor Anselme was willing to sacrifice much for me. Disheartening as that was, I wasn't too displeased; I still had a chance, then, to make a new life on my own. Perhaps I would finally escape the mess that had become my life. I heard from the servants that Daryan had finally succeeded his father as king of Tännon and that he would have a newly wedded (and most assuredly bedded) royal bride to go along with it within six months. According to the Ascanius' servants, the chosen beauty was a reticent woman from one of Thyrea's neighbors, a girl who would have married one of the y Pergama sons had not Daryan got her first.

I felt sorry for her and silently wished her well, knowing that her way would not be easy. I certainly did not envy her the situation she was in, though once I would have. Instead, I dreamed of my new life.

Sometimes, though, when I woke up, there would be tears on my cheeks and my arms would be slippery with their misery. I would have dreamed of Thom those nights, and of the love we once shared. Those mornings were the hardest, but the dreams of the future helped me along. I tried to put him out of my mind, but was rarely successful.

As the weeks passed, I cried and dreamed and wished, watching the days pass me by.

By the fifth week, I knew something was wrong. The servants spoke of war and battles fought. Men were dying and I could daily hear the noise of injured men and a pitiful sound that was. Still, I was kept sheltered in the tent of Ascanius y Pergama, hidden from view and kept away from the world.

As the sixth week of my boredom passed, I noticed something else wrong. Though I was eating far less than usual, my dress did not fit. It had even been loose before, but now, it was beginning to stretch taut across the middle. I attributed it to my sedentary lifestyle, for all I did was sit all day in the tent. As of late, General y Pergama had brought me books to read, understanding my boredom and turning more sympathetic as the days passed. We saw each other almost daily and the proximity began to breed some sort of fondness.

One evening, after the sounds of the skirmishes ceased for the day, Ascanius y Pergama brought company.

"Kelryian, oh God."

"Thomhas." I was numb with shock, with surprise, with whatever emotion could fully encompass everything that flooded my body at that moment. "Why are you here?"

"You have five minutes," the General said before taking his leave of us.

"What happened to you?" Thomhas stood across the tent from me, his arms crossed. "Arielle told me you left, but she didn't tell me you were with child."

"What?" I glared at him, resenting his very presence, pushing all of the dreams of him out of my mind. "I simply left, nothing else."

"Of course." His remark was snide, a sneer curling his lips. "Because I can't see when my own wife is obviously pregnant."

I stalked up to him. "You are seeing things, Thomhas dy Cattalo. Now, why are you here?" Hand on my hips, I angrily bit back tears.

"I was going to offer you a way out, but you seemed disinclined to take it." Thom reached out as if to brush my face but let his hand fall at the last moment. "Whose is it?"

"Don't start that." My mouth turned down with the suppressed tears. "I wish I could leave." A tear slipped out. "I miss…"

"For you, Kelry, I would have done the impossible. Once, but now…" He kissed my cheek, then my lips, softly. "Don't come home." He pressed something hard into my hand, and then stalked out of the tent. When I opened my hand, I found his wedding ring folded into my palm.

That was a night I cried myself to sleep, my wet palms slick against my cheeks. I dreamed of Thomhas, of the way it was, and when I woke up, my hands were cradling my stomach, wrapped tight around its new found bulk.

Again, Ascanius y Pergama returned with company. "Kelryian, Morian, Morian, Kelryian." And thus, introductions were made and I met the physician. He was thin, with deep green eyes that proclaimed knowledge without a doubt. His hands, though not large, were steady as he adjusted the spectacles that perched on his nose. When he smiled, his face melted into compassion.

"Kelryian," he said, his voice soft. "The General tells me that you are having some difficulties."

A single eyebrow arched. "I wasn't aware I was having difficulties."

"Your belly says otherwise." A slender finger pointed delicately. "It appears that you are with child."

I nearly scoffed, but held it in. I couldn't be with child. I would have been rendered to Arielle's condition, surely, as weak as a newborn kitten that couldn't see. "Ah." I managed, my voice strangled.

"Pardon me," Morian offered before placing his hand on my stomach. "The General y Pergama has requested that I examine you. I must warn you, I am far more used to dealing with soldiers, who most certainly do not get pregnant, but at times, their women do come to me as well. So I know something of that." He smiled at me again, kindness suffusing his expression. "Mostly, I'm just checking to see that you're in good health."

A pause, then I managed to get out another brief, "Ah," before sitting very solidly down on the floor.

"Kelryian?"

"I'm going to have a baby?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Oh, God."

Within two months, with warfare still plaguing the city despite the intermittent snow storms, my stomach had swollen to enormous proportions. Morian figured that I was just entering the third trimester. My precious bundle of joy, as one of the serving women had taken to calling my baby, would be a spring child.

Winter was kind to Anselme; though I wrapped the catskin cloak close around me, the winds did not sap my face of all warmth or chill me to the bone. Although there was snow, it didn't stick, instead melting into the brown grass as soon as it rested upon the earth. I snuggled deeper into the catskin cloak, watching the snowflakes flutter to earth outside.

In the months that had passed, Thomhas had not come to see me again. Arielle had, twice, though her visits had stopped as she, too, had blossomed hugely with child. Ascanius y Pergama told me that she had birthed a boy not a week ago, though how he knew that, I will never know. I was grateful for the news, no matter where it came from. I missed Arielle. For truly, I was alone here, save for Morian's weekly visits and Ascanius' often dour, brooding company, if he showed up at all. It was a lonely existence.

As I lay awake one night, with the cold winter wind making the tent billow and roll like the sea I had never seen, I longed for home, for my mother again. She would certainly make everything fine again. I yearned for the days when she would come home from one of her long journeys and take me into her arms, surprising me with some new delight she had happened across in her travels. I remembered the smell of spiced teas that she had steeped for me, the aroma of the foreign spices tickling my nose and making me sneeze. The soft cashmeres that she would bring me rose in my memory and I recalled how they felt as the slipped across the bare skin of my childish arms.

Most of all, though, I wished for the feel of her arms around me as she wrapped me in the special cloth and spooned sweet delights into my mouth as she held me on her lap. As I cradled my own child in my lap, my arms wrapped close around my bulging midsection, I realized that I wanted the same for my child. I would travel, or Thom would, and we would bring back our baby such wonders! And we would hold our offspring, our child, made together in love, between us and give it as much love as we could.

My lips curved into a chapped smile as I thought of this image, conveniently forgetting that Thom had told me not to come home and that I had his wedding ring on a chain around my neck, keeping it close to my heart even though he did not keep it close to his. In the middle of the night, with naught but the wind as my companion, I dreamed of the life I really wanted and, in that moment, gave up all thoughts of ever leaving Ansemle. It was my home; I would stay.

With this realization came the understanding that for this perfect life I dreamed of, the present war would have to cease. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, I had no way of doing such a thing. I was a political prisoner, and a woman without a country at that. Instead, I was forced to sit and to wait, to see what lot befell me rather than making my own fate. It was frustrating, but in the middle of the night, there wasn't much else to do.

So, that night, I slept, waiting for fate to come and find me. I would deal with it when it got there.

Fate came on swift feet.

Author's Note: Once more, I must apologize. I meant to get this up quite a bit earlier, but unfortunately, my hard drive decided that it didn't need to work anymore. Luckily, I managed to salvage a few things, including this, so here, finally, from a working computer, is the chapter! Hurrah. So, please enjoy and happy holidays to all!


	37. Crabs Walk Sideways

**Chapter Thirty-Seven:** Crabs Walk Sideways, Lobsters Walk Straight

When your hands are bound and your baby is kicking in your stomach like never before and you see your husband and father of your child standing next to the man who was once your greatest love but is now your truest enemy, you might suspect that it will be a bad day. Perhaps it will even be a bad week. When you see your father, who has disowned you, and your former fiancee, the one you ran away from in the dead of night, standing next to them, representing a country that has washed its hands of you, it could even be a bad month. You might give up hope that anything could be saved, much less yourself.

When the tears begin to roll down your cheeks, but freeze before they slip off your chin because the wind that whips your hair into stinging your face is relentless, then certainly, you will not feel strong or capable or clever, not like you did before when you had such great ideas of brokering peace and bringing nations together. Oh, no, then you will break and capitulate and admit to just about anything.

But that was when Arielle appeared, my friend until the end. Wan, gaunt Arielle, sitting fiercely atop a destrier that pranced and danced about in the wind, rode to the forefront and demanded that the world bow down at her feet. "Give me Sera dy Relandrant." Her voice arced across the field, reaching me with much needed strength. "She is a citizen of my city and I demand her return at once." Oh dear, dear Arielle, sweet woman who would come after me no matter what I had gotten myself into.

"No." Ascanius y Pergama's answer was simple, and he said no more. I was his prisoner and there was no flip side to this coin. I was not a chip to be bargained with, I was merely his because he liked to have things that other people wanted.

And there I stood, in the middle of it all, watching my life be bandied around by insubstantial words. I could do nothing but observe. I could feel the cold metal of two wedding rings biting into my fingers, the cold making them burn against my chapped skin. I remained still, my head bowed against the wind, watching the two sides battle for me. There was, of course, the third side, the side that held my attention most of all. Thom stood there, with Daryan and the rest of Tännon. His uncle stood there, tall and imposing and for once, serious, beside him and behind him, I could make out Livingston's familiar crop of hair. So there they were, all of them, my former allies, waiting to betray me. Only Arielle was left to me now, not Anselme, not Jasper, not Thom, but Arielle. The most powerful woman in Anselme, to be sure, but in comparison to the men who opposed me, she was nothing.

Another tear froze on my cheekbone.

I had wanted to help, wanted to run away so that the tension between Anselme and Tännon that was caused by my presence would cease, but I had been wrong. I had not helped whatsoever and in that respect, I was an utter failure. I sighed, my breath crystallizing before me.

In the end, there were no great speeches, no mighty shows of martial force. There was simply Arielle glaring across the field at Ascanius y Pergama, wind whipped and angry. The delegation from my former country had gone, seeking shelter from the cold. Arielle and Ascanius...and me. I stood yet on the field, the weight of my decisions bearing down upon my shoulders so heavily that I seemed to sink into the very earth itself. And so, in the end, as it were, nothing was accomplished. The end dragged on and on, reeking of stalemate and badly played chess.

That night, I was brought home to Ascanius' tent, warmed and scolded roundly by Morian, and put to bed. As I drifted between dreams and the waking world, I could hear Morian launching into a tirade against Ascanius, cursing him for treating me so poorly. With the sounds of arguments ringing in my ears, I slept.

Morning broke with harsh light over the field and found me wrapped tightly in blankets and wool as I watched the stalemate continue. I cared not, for why should I? The things that mattered to me most had left me, seemingly with no hope of recovery. Though Arielle stood forth, ever my truest friend, I longed for my husband, the man I loved. Still, his ring burned through the skin of my fingers, biting with cold and ice. Whenever I felt it brush along my raw skin, I remembered how I had failed him, but I still relished in the thought of him, hating myself for it, but loving him.

The third day of this farce opened its bright, brittle eyes upon a vastly changed scene. I stood atop a platform, Ascanius by my side, his hand tight around my arm. Arielle stood by my other side, her face drawn with worry and fury. "You will not go through with this, Ascanius y Pergama. I will not allow it!"

"You have no say in this, woman." The General y Pergama shrugged. "It is not your place to speak on this matter."

Arielle let loose a long sigh and I glanced at her briefly; she appeared as sharp as a knife blade, while I felt as dull as an unpolished spoon. She was the one who would save Anselme and bring peace about, not me. She had gone about things in the right manner, had thought things through and would fight it out to the bitter end. Anselme needed her and relied upon her in a way it never had me. The hopes that the minstrel had given me, the idea that I could be the one to halt the coming war, had been nothing more than a flight of fancy, briefly present, but soon gone. My head dropped lower.

This was a trial, this song and dance routine that Ascanius meant to put be through. He styled himself judge, but ruled with no opposition. He would not listen to Arielle, would not let me speak except for the words he placed delicately into my mouth. And I, ever obedient, ever subservient, opened my mouth wide and waited for each morsel to come.

Dusk found me that way, still standing atop the platform, though Ascanius had released my arm. I wasn't going anywhere. I was to die when my child was born, for even Ascanius could not stomach punishing an unborn child for the sins of the mother. Even he had a heart. And so, I prepared to wait for one month more, one month to let my unborn child make its way into the world.

I waited for three and a half weeks until, one sunny, brittle morning, my daughter fought her way into the world, screaming with her first breath and never seeming to cease. I took one look at her and knew whose child she was. There was no doubt whatsoever and there could never be. She was Thom's daughter, through and through, and her dark eyes so much like his stared at me curiously. I named her Seren. That night was the only night that I had with her and though dawn was nearly breaking already.

The feeling of your own heart breaking is one that will tear you apart from the inside to the outside, not allowing you to break down and cry at first, but merely to stand absolutely still, your breath shuddering through your body, the blood flowing through your veins. You might think that it is complete hopelessness, brought about by despair, but it isn't. It's the hope that makes it all the worse, the hope that perhaps someone will come and save you from your misery and knowing, rationally, that no one will, but hoping nonetheless. It is that conflict between the rational part of your being and the illogical, irrational abstract part of your being that rips your heart in twain.

And how it hurts! Oh, the agony of immobility, of standing frozen while your insides churn and crumble while you yet live. And you can do nothing.

The tears won't come until the bitter end, you see, for the tears mean that you are losing hope and then, there is nothing. No heartbreak, no despair, only numbness and salt water running down your cheeks and stinging your chapped, broken lips. At this point, the heart is broken, perhaps unable to be repaired. But it is a sort of release, when it all goes, slipping from your fingers like silt in the riverbed. Still, though, some of the silt catches under your fingernails, in the creases of your palm and then, when you notice that, you remember what it is to hurt, but you cannot quite name what it is.

You just cry, the tears running down your cheeks in rivulets, your eyes swollen from wind and water and salt, and your heart lies broken within you.

That is heartbreak, and that is what I felt, or perhaps didn't feel, as I stood that morning on the platform on which I was to die.

At that moment, I was told, Arielle was racing across the plains of Anselme, her destrier outfitted in nothing but a bridle and blanket. Anselme had gotten the word too late, it seemed, to come to my daring rescue, to snatch me from the hands of my captors (oh, the hands that I had run straight to, so foolishly) and whisk me away to safety. Thom, too, was with her, bareback and the clothing that he could find on a moment's notice, hastily thrown on in the dark. With him, he brought an extra horse and host of men, hoping desperately that he did not come too late.

My father watched, standing near Ascanius, his eyes never leaving mine. As hard and remorseless as ever, he shook his head. He had washed his hands of me, but held his granddaughter close, taunting me with it, as he had ever taunted me as a child.

Tears dripped down my face and I used them to absolve myself of him.

Ascanius wanted to make a show of it, a spectacle, to show his men and Daryan's men that they were winning this war. He wanted a demonstration of his power and so, he would kill a traitor to Tännon, a political prisoner from Anselme and an adulterous wife. They would kill not me, per se, but all the things they hated most, but my head would still be the thing to roll, in the end. It was the way of people, of societies, I supposed, to lay blame wherever it was easiest to place it.

And Arielle and Thom rode on, their horses' hooves striking a heartbeat against the hard earth.

The trumpets flared, bright swaths of sound carving across the morning. I, exhausted from the night's activities and a significant lack of sleep, wavered on my feet. Finally, when the trumpets were through crying their aching notes, Ascanius turned to me. He opened his mouth to condemn me, to speak the words that meant my death.

But I spoke first. "Ascanius y Pergama, what are you doing?"

He stared at first, his expression offended as if to ask, what is this woman speaking to me for? Then, he tried to yell.

I spoke over him. "Ascanius y Pergama, what you plan to do today is a crime." I didn't actually know what I would say, or perhaps even what I was saying, but my voice carried over his. It was low with anxiety and the last vestiges of resolve that I had within me, pulled from the tips of my toes up to my heart. It was all that I had left. "What you will do to me is a sin, Ascanius, and you know it.

He laughed at me, then, certainty coursing through every breath. "It is no sin, Sera. Or even if it is, it matters not. This is war, girl, not a crusade. There is no holy faith to cross, there is only death, or not, if you are lucky." Ascanius laughed again and I felt hope slip through my fingers like river silt.

"Then I will die, Ascanius, but not for you."

"It doesn't matter what you die for." His voice was full of bitterness, the words sour upon his tongue. "It only matters that you do."

Words failed at that point. I had never been eloquent and, when faced with my own demise, I was even less so. With nothing left to me but my corporeal form, I felt the shudder of surrender rippling through me for the final time. Seren cried in my father's arms, her infant sobs breaking my already broken heart further.

I sank to my knees and Ascanius placed his sword at my throat. Closing my eyes, I took one, last breath, feeling the cold steel nipping at the tender skin of my neck.

One last, single tear froze onto my cheek.

I waited patiently, as a woman should. At last, I knew my place.

The hoofbeats, the screams, the sounds of death all around me shook me from my surrender. The men set to kill me clustered around me now protectively, their steel turned outwards, trying to stave off the death that seemed to close in.

Anselme had come to claim me. Arielle was at the head of an army, a guerilla operation that seemed more haphazard that horrifying, but was effective nonetheless. They killed without mercy, carved a bloody path before them, left a trail of carnage behind them and all in an effort to get to me. Arielle, as fierce in war as she was in diplomacy, rode hard for me, and beside her...

Oh, my breath caught in my throat then, full of tears and anger.

Beside her rode Thom.

Involuntarily, I stepped towards them, reaching outwards, only to be pushed roughly back into the center of protection. I watched helplessly as the day was fought for me. Blood streamed across the field, veritable rivers of life, springing forth from violent founts of wretched human suffering. I cried dry tears, my heaving sobs pouring through me remorselessly. My father, holding my dear, sweet child was nowhere to be found and I prayed that he was keeping her safe. Even if he didn't love me, he could still love her.

Thom cut a path to me, hacking through bodies and arms and necks to get to me. Our eyes held when they could and I loved him more than ever. The men around me shifted me restively, searching for a way to remove me from the theatre of war, but there was no place to go. Death waited for us to spring his trap no matter which way we turned and so, I was held hostage at the very center of the carnage, watching as my best friend and my husband fought for my very life. Helpless, as was so often the case, I prayed my heart out, ignoring the blood that splattered across my skin, ignoring the screams of men dying, ignoring the pain that shot through every fiber of my being.

And finally, Thom reached me.

I threw myself towards him, flinging my entire weight against the restraints of the men surrounding me. I screamed, I cried, I yearned for Thom and he...he worked his way towards me, letting nothing stop him. To him, it seemed as if the soldiers around me were nothing, mere sheaves of wheat to be cut down at the harvest.

It was a plentiful harvest of life, of death, of blood, but in the end, Thom held me close, pressing me against him as he worked his way through the conflict. Our compatriots, those fighting for Anselme and for me, drove a path before us, sheltering us and sacrificing, at times, their lives for mine. Tears streamed across my cheeks the entire time that Thom dragged me through the melee and blindly, I followed him, placing my trust completely with him.

The violence finally ended as darkness fell and it found me curled tightly in Thom's arms, silently, motionlessly crying. He rocked me back and forth throughout the night, never saying a word. Arielle's scouts found us there the next morning, chilled and with blue-tinged lips, but alive and together. They brought us back to Anselme, to Arielle and to Jasper and to the city itself, which welcomed us with wide open arms. I paid little attention to that, though, so lost was I in Thom. He never let me go, promised he never would again, and told me he loved me.

The only thing left was to reclaim our daughter.

**Note:** I'm terribly sorry this has taken so long. Per usual, I will do my best to keep it coming, but who knows. I will finish it, though, have no fear. It just might take forever...

But really, enjoy!


	38. Be All My Sins Remember'd

**Chapter Thirty-Eight:** Be All My Sins Remember'd

Spring quickly gave way to summer in Anselme and soon, we were spending afternoons in the gardens rather than in the stateroom. We schemed and plotted, negotiated and begged, but still, my father refused to give up his granddaughter. Daryan refused to listen to us as well, rejecting the diplomats we sent time and time again. Both Arielle and Thom were adamant about the fact that I was not to go and somehow, they managed to keep a ceaseless watch over me. For all of my desperation, I, too, acknowledged that I was in no condition to go gallivanting off on what could turn into a suicide mission. My months in captivity had left me wracked with illness and injuries, though the injuries were more from my rescue than anything else. Though I was a hero in the eyes of Anselme, I yet believed I had failed. I couldn't act, I couldn't leave the house and I wasn't allowed any visitors, ostensibly for my protection. I was heroic in name only, an ideal to hold up before the people to show them their so-called victory.

Really, though, I knew that I was nothing more than a problem, lingering and sad.

As I wallowed in self pity and sorrow, the rest of Anselme moved on around me. Treaties were made, the war was ended and Tännon once more opened itself to Anselme, and Anselme did likewise.

Thom and Arielle tried valiantly to draw me out, to bring me back to the world I had once loved so dearly, but I would have none of it. I learned how to embroider with the artistry of a master, I learned to play the mandolin, its delicate frame sitting easily on my lap, cradled as I would have my own child. I perfected the arts that, as a child, I had scorned as tiresome. Now, they were my solace, my entertainment. I lost myself in them and finally, oddly, I found contentment.

Nightly, Thom and I would sleep side by side in our bed, he making overtures that would ultimately be frustrated. While I was content in myself, I was not content with him. I slept, leaving him to toss and turn beside me, worrying while I forgot to care. He took care of me, day after day, his love bringing the both of us through together, somehow. I'm sure it was love alone that allowed him to suffer my withdrawal, for many others simply forgot me, casting me off as a lost cause, as last year's excitement. I was only too happy to allow that to happen, though more often than not, I was unaware.

Only occasionally would the contentment and resignation, simple as they were, shudder under something yet more primary. There were days, weeks, even, when sorrow would pervade my every breath, every though, waking or sleeping. Though those times were few and far between, they still rankled deep within me, resonating with my need for action, to reclaim what was mine.

And yet, I did nothing, content to remain passive and unaware of the world around me simply because it required nothing of me. And so passed a year and a half.

Summer was dying around me as I picked the last blossoms of the season. They would make our table look less empty. I hummed gently, tunelessly to myself as I plucked stems from the plants, gathering them in my skirt as I went. Soon enough, my skirt was full of flowers, overflowing with life in a way that our house was not.

As I arranged the centerpiece for the table, one of our maids timorously interrupted me, her soft voice barely breaking through my reverie. "There is someone here to see you, ma'am." She coughed delicately but I ignored her. "Ma'am?"

Sighing, I turned. "Who is it?"

"I don't know, ma'am." The girl looked down at her feet. I doubted that she had expected me to acknowledge her, much less speak to her. I had developed the habit of ignoring most of the staff, save for the occasional order that I would remember to give. Thom ran the house and I lived in it, taking no part.

"Well, then, you'd best find out, I suppose. I will be here when you do." I shrugged, smiling slightly to myself, taking pleasure in the flowers without really seeing them.

"Kelryian!" I started at the sudden volume of a new voice behind me, but didn't turn, slipping easily back into my floral reverie. "You are a terribly rude girl, not to greet your mother. Close your mouth, dear, it's not attractive."

I was staring at her, at my mother, Sera Karise dy Relandrant, so full of life and standing immediately before me. And in her arms...I began to cry, tears slipping down my cheeks in droves. My daughter. I dropped the flowers that I hadn't yet added to the arrangement and ran to her, life coming back to me in a rush of sobbing, gasping breaths. I repeated my daughter's name over and over again, an endless cry of _Seren, Seren, Seren_ until finally, I could say no more. My mother, her arms wrapped around me, rocked the three of us as I sank, bonelessly, to the floor. None of us, save for Seren who gurgled contentedly in my arms, moved or spoke for an eternity. Someone had fetched Thom from meetings and he knelt with me on the floor, awkwardly joining our familial embrace.

It seemed then, in that moment that reached beyond time, that I came back to myself and came home.

And so it was.

Note: Per usual, my apologies for the wait. I believe that this is indeed the end, my friends. It's been a long road and I hope it wasn't too excruciating...I know I'm rather sad it's done. C'est la vie.


End file.
